THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 


WORKS  BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

THE   FOUR   HORSEMEN   OF   THE 

APOCALYPSE 
MARE   NOSTRUM   (oUR  SEa) 
BLOOD  AND   SAND 

LA  BODEGA  (tHE  FRUIT  OF  THE  VINE) 
THE    SHADOW  OF  THE   CATHEDRAL 
WOMAN  TRIUMPHANT 
MEXICO  IN  REVOLUTION 
In  Preparation 
THE   ARGONAUTS 

E.    P.    DUTTON    &   COMPANY 


THE    ENEMIES 
OF    WOMEN 

(LOS  ENEMIGOS  DE  LA  MUJER) 

BY 

VICENTE. BLASCO  IBANEZ 


TRANSLATED   FROM   THE    SPANISH 
BY 

IRVING  BROWN 


NEW  YORK 

E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 

68i  FIFTH  AVENUE 


Copyright,  1918,  by 

E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 
All  Rights  Reserved 


First  printing Oct.,  jg20 

Second  printing Oct.,  igzo 

Third  printing Oct.,  iqio 

Fourth  printing Oct. ,  Jg20 

Fifth  printing Oa.,  1920 

Sixth  printing Oa.,  1920 

Seventh  printing Oct.,  J920 

Eighth  printing Oct.,  1920 

Ninth  printing Oct.,  J920 

Tenth  printing Oa.,  Z02O 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


College 
library 

dCiESE 
CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I I 

n. 28 

m 71 

IV .  103 

V. •     ...  151 

VI '.     .  189 

vn.      .....' ' .    .  260 

vm .  324 

IX 371 

X.       . .  450 

XI 499 

xn 5" 


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THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Prince  repeated  his  statement: 

"Man's  greatest  wisdom  consists  in  getting  along  with- 
out women." 

He  intended  to  go  on  but  was  interrupted.  There  was 
a  slight  stir  of  the  heavy  window  curtains.  Through 
their  parting  was  seen  below,  as  in  a  frame,  the  intense 
azure  of  the  Mediterranean.  A  dull  roar  reached  the 
dining-room.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  side  of  the 
house  facing  the  Alps.  It  was  a  faint  vibration,  deadened 
by  the  walls,  the  curtains,  and  the  carpets,  distant,  like 
the  working  of  some  underground  monster;  but  there 
rose  above  the  sound  of  revolving  steel  and  the  puffing 
of  steam  a  clamor  of  human  beings,  a  sudden  burst  of 
shouts  and  whistling. 

"A  train  full  of  soldiers!"  exclaimed  Don  Marcos 
Toledo,  leaving  his  chair. 

"The  Colonel  is  at  it  again,  always  the  hero,  always 
enthusiastic  about  everything  that  has  to  do  with  his 
profession,"  said  Atilio  Castro,  with  a  smile  of  amuse- 
ment. 

In  spite  of  his  years,  the  man  whom  they  called  the 
Colonel  sprang  to  the  nearest  window.  Above  the  foliage 
of  the  sloping  garden,  he  could  see  a  small  section  of 
the  Comiche  railroad,  swallowed  up  in  the  smoky  en- 
trance of  a  tunnel,  and  reappearing  farther  on,  beyond 


2  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  hill,  among  the  groves  and  rose  colored  villas  of  Cap- 
Martin,  Under  the  mid-day  sun  the  rails  quivered  like 
rills  of  molten  steel.  Although  the  train  had  not  yet 
reached  this  side  of  the  tunnel,  the  whole  country-side 
was  filled  with  the  ever-increasing  roar.  The  windows, 
terraces,  and  gardens  of  the  villas  were  dotted  black  with 
people  who  were  leaving  their  luncheon  tables  to  see  the 
train  pass.  From  the  mountain  slope  to  the  seashore, 
from  walls  and  buildings  on  both  sides  of  the  track,  flags 
of  all  colors  began  to  wave. 

Don  Marcos  ran  to  the  opposite  window  overlooking 
the  city.  All  he  could  see  was  an  expanse  of  roofs 
with  no  trace  of  Nature's  touch  save  here  and  there  the 
feathery  g^een  of  the  gardens  against  the  red  of  the  tiles. 
It  was  like  a  stage  setting  broken  into  a  succession  of 
wings :  in  the  foreground,  amid  trees,  isolated  villas  with 
green  balustrades  and  flower-strewn  walls;  next,  the 
mass  of  Monte  Carlo,  its  huge  hotels  bristling  with 
pointed  turrets  and  cupolas ;  and  hazy  in  the  background, 
as  though  floating  in  golden  dust,  the  rocky  cliffs  of 
Monaco,  with  its  promenades;  the  enormous  pile  of  the 
Oceanographic  Museum;  the  New  Cathedral,  a  glaring 
white;  and  the  square  crested  tower  of  the  palace  of  the 
Prince.  Buildings  stretched  from  the  edge  of  the  sea 
halfway  up  the  mountains.  It  was  a  country  without 
fields,  with  no  open  land,  covered  completely  with  houses, 
from  one  frontier  to  the  other. 

But  Don  Marcos  had  known  the  view  for  years,  and 
at  once  detected  the  unfamiliar  detail.  A  long,  inter- 
minable train  was  moving  slowly  along  the  hillside.  He 
counted  aloud  more  than  forty  cars,  without  coming  to 
the  rear  coaches  still  hidden  in  a  hollow. 

"It  must  be  a  battalion  ...  a  whole  battalion  on  a  war 
footing.  More  than  a  thousand  soldiers,"  he  said  in  an 
authoritative  manner,  pleased  at  showing  off  his  keen 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  3 

professional  judgment  before  his  fellow  guests,  who, 
for  that  matter,  were  not  listening. 

The  train  was  filled  with  men,  tiny  yellowish  gray 
figures,  that  gathered  at  the  car  windows,  doors,  and  on 
the  running-boards  with  their  feet  hanging  over  the 
track.  Others  were  crowded  in  cattle  pens  or  stood  on 
the  open  flat-cars,  among  the  tanks  and  crated  machine 
guns.  A  great  many  had  climbed  to  the  roofs  and  were 
greeting  the  crowds  with  arms  and  legs  extended  in  the 
shape  of  a  letter  X.  Almost  all  of  them  had  their  shirt 
sleeves  rolled  up  to  the  elbows,  like  sailors  preparing 
to  maneuver. 

"They  are  English !"  exclaimed  Don  Marcos.  "English 
soldiers  on  their  way  to  Italy !" 

But  this  information  seemed  to  irritate  the  Prince,  who 
always  spoke  to  him  in  familiar  language,  in  spite  of 
the  difference  in  their  ages.  "Don't  be  absurd.  Colonel. 
Anybody  would  know  that.  They  are  the  only  ones  who 
whistle." 

The  men  still  seated  at  the  table  nodded.  Military 
trains  passed  every  day,  and  from  a  distance  it  was  possi- 
ble to  guess  the  nationality  of  the  passengers.  "The 
French,"  said  Castro,  "go  past  silently.  They  have  had  a 
little  over  three  years  of  fighting  on  their  own  soil.  They 
are  as  silent  and  gloomy  as  their  duty  is  monotonous  and 
endless.  The  Italians  coming  from  the  French  front  sing, 
and  decorate  their  trains  with  green  branches.  The  Eng- 
lish shout  like  a  lot  of  boys,  just  out  of  school,  and  in 
their  enthusiasm,  whistle  all  the  time.  They  are  the  real 
children  in  this  war;  they  go  with  a  sort  of  boyish  glee  to 
their  death." 

The  whistling  sound  drew  nearer,  shrill  as  the  howling 
of  a  witches'  Sabbath.  It  passed  between  the  mountains 
and  the  gardens  of  Villa  Sirena;  and  then  went  on  in 
the  other  direction,  toward  Italy,  gradually  growing  faint- 


4  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

er  as  it  disappeared  in  the  tunnel.  Toledo,  who  was  the 
only  one  in  the  room  to  watch  the  train  pass,  noticed 
how  the  houses,  gardens,  and  potagers  on  both  sides  of 
the  track  were  alive  with  people,  waving  handkerchiefs 
and  flags  in  reply  to  the  whistling  of  the  English.  Even 
along  the  seashore  the  fishermen  stood  up  on  the  seats 
of  their  boats  and  waved  their  caps  at  a  distant  train. 
The  quick  ear  of  Don  Marcos  distinguished  a  sound  of 
footsteps  on  the  floor  above.  The  servants  doubtless 
were  opening  the  windows  to  join  with  silent  enthusiasm 
in  that  farewell. 

When  only  a  few  coaches  were  still  visible  at  the  mouth 
of  the  tunnel,  the  Colonel  came  back  to  his  place  at  the 
table. 

"More  meat  for  the  slaughter  house !"  exclaimed  Atilio 
Castro,  looking  at  the  Prince.  "The  racket  is  over.  Go 
on,  Michael." 

Under  Toledo's  watchful  eye,  two  beardless  Italian 
boys,  unprepossessing  in  appearance,  were  serving  the 
dessert  at  the  luncheon. 

The  Colonel  kept  glancing  over  the  table  and  at  the 
faces  of  his  three  guests,  as  though  he  were  afraid  of 
suddenly  noticing  something  that  would  show  the  lunch 
had  been  hastily  arranged.  It  was  the  first  that  had  been 
given  at  Villa  Sirena  for  two  years. 

The  master  of  the  house.  Prince  Michael  Fedor  Lubim- 
off,  who  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  had  arrived  from 
Paris  the  evening  before. 

The  Prince  was  a  man  still  in  his  youth,  fresh  with 
the  well  controlled  vigor  that  is  furnished  by  a  life  of 
physical  exercise.  He  was  tall,  robust,  and  supple,  of 
dark  complexion,  with  large  gray  eyes,  and  a  massive 
face,  clean  shaven.  The  scattered  gray  hairs  at  his  tem- 
ples seemed  even  more  numerous  in  contrast  with  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  5 

blue-black  of  the  rest.  A  number  of  premature  wrinkles 
around  the  eyes,  and  two  deep  furrows  running  from  his 
wide  nostrils  to  the  comers  of  his  mouth,  were  the  first 
indication  of  weariness  in  a  powerful  organism  that 
seemed  to  have  lived  too  intensely,  in  the  mistaken  con- 
fidence that  its  reserve  of  strength  was  endless. 

The  Colonel  called  him  "Your  Highness,"  as  if  Michael 
Fedor  were  a  member  of  a  ruling  house,  instead  of  a  mere 
Russian  prince.  But  this  was  when  some  one  was  pres- 
ent. It  was  a  habit  Don  Marcos  had  adopted  in  the  days 
of  the  late  Princess  Lubimoff,  to  maintain  the  prestige 
of  the  son,  whom  he  had  known  since  the  latter  was  a 
child.  In  their  intimate  relations,  when  they  were  alone, 
he  preferred  to  call  him  "Marquis,"  Marquis  de  Villa- 
blanca,  and  the  Prince  was  never  successful  in  disturbing, 
by  his  witticisms  on  the  subject,  the  precedence  thus 
established  by  Don  Marcos  in  his  terms  of  respect.  The 
title  of  Russian  Prince  was  for  those  who  are  dazzled 
by  the  lofty  sound  of  titles,  without  being  able  to  appre- 
ciate their  respective  merits,  and  origins ;  as  for  himself, 
the  Colonel  preferred  something  nobler,  the  title  of  Span- 
ish Marquis,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  that  title  for  Lubim- 
off  was  quite  unknown  in  Spain,  and  lacked  official  recog- 
nition. 

Toledo  was  well  acquainted  with  Prince  Michael's  three 
guests. 

Atilio  Castro  was  a  fellow  countryman,  a  Spaniard 
who  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  outside  his 
own  country.  He  affected  great  intimacy  with  the  Prince 
and,  on  the  grounds  of  a  distant  blood  relationship  be- 
tween them,  even  spoke  to  him  with  some  familiarity. 
Don  Marcos  had  a  vague  idea  that  the  young  Spaniard 
had  been  a  consul  somewhere  for  a  short  time.  Atilio 
was  continually  poking  fun  at  him  without  fiis  being 


6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

always  immediately  aware  of  it.  But  the  Colonel,  seeing 
that  it  pleased  "His  Highness"  greatly,  felt  no  ill-will  on 
that  account. 

"A  fine  fellow,  good  hearted !"  the  Colonel  often  said, 
in  speaking  of  Castro.  "He  hasn't  led  a  model  life,  he's 
a  terrible  gambler — but  a  gentleman.  Yes,  sir,  a  real 
gentleman !" 

Michael  Fedor  defined  his  relative  in  other  terms. 

"He  has  all  the  vices,  and  no  defects." 

Don  Marcos  could  never  quite  understand  what  that 
meant,  but  nevertheless  it  increased  his  esteem  for  Castro. 

The  Prince  was  only  two  or  three  years  older  than 
Atilio,  and  yet  their  ages  seemed  much  farther  apart. 
Castro  was  over  thirty-five,  and  some  people  thought  him 
twenty-four.  His  face  had  an  ingenuous,  rather  child- 
like expression,  and  it  acquired  a  certain  character  of 
manliness,  thanks  solely  to  a  dark  red  mustache,  closely 
cropped.  This  tiny  mustache,  and  his  glossy  hair  parted 
squarely  in  the  middle,  were  the  most  prominent  details 
of  his  features,  except  when  he  became  excited.  If  his 
humor  changed — which  happened  very  rarely — the  luster 
in  his  eyes,  the  contraction  of  his  mouth,  and  the  pre- 
mature wrinkles  in  his  forehead  gave  him  an  almost 
ominous  expression,  and  suddenly  he  seemed  to  age  by 
ten  years. 

"A  bad  man  to  have  for  an  enemy!"  affirmed  the 
Colonel.    "It  wouldn't  do  to  get  in  his  way." 

And  not  out  of  fear,  but  rather  out  of  sincere  admira- 
tion did  the  Colonel  speak  admiringly  of  Castro's  talents. 
He  wrote  poetry,  painted  in  water  color,  improvised  songs 
at  the  piano,  gave  advice  in  matters  of  furniture  and 
clothes,  and  was  well  versed  in  antiquities,  and  matters 
of  taste.    Don  Marcos  knew  no  limits  to  that  intelligence. 

"He  knows  everything,"  he  would  say.  "If  he  would 
only  stick  to  one  thing!    If  he  would  only  work!" 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  7 

Castro  was  always  elegantly  dressed,  and  lived  in  ex- 
pensive hotels;  but  he  had  no  regular  income  so  far  as 
was  known.  The  Colonel  suspected  a  series  of  friendly 
little  loans  from  the  Prince.  But  the  latter  had  remained 
away  from  Monte  Carlo  almost  since  the  beginning  of  the 
war,  and  Don  Marcos  used  to  meet  Castro  every  winter 
living  at  the  Hotel  de  Paris,  playing  at  the  Casino,  and 
associating  with  people  of  wealth.  From  time  to  time,  on 
encountering  the  Colonel  in  the  gaming  rooms,  Castro 
had  asked  him  for  a  loan  of  "ten  louis,"  an  absolute 
necessity  for  a  gambler  who  had  just  lost  his  last  stake 
and  was  anxious  to  recoup.  But  with  more  or  less  delay 
he  had  always  returned  the  money.  There  was  some- 
thing mysterious  about  his  life,  according  to  Don  Marcos. 

The  two  other  guests  seemed  to  him  to  live  much  less 
complex  lives.  The  one  who  had  frequented  the  house 
for  the  longest  period,  was  a  dark  young  man,  with  a 
skin  that  was  almost  copper  colored,  a  slight  build,  and 
long,  straight  hair.  He  was  Teofilo  Spadoni,  a  famous 
pianist.  Spadoni's  parents  were  Italian — this  much  was 
sure.  No  one  could  quite  make  out  where  he  had  been 
born.  At  times  he  mentioned  his  birthplace  as  Cairo, 
at  other  times,  as  Athens,  or  Constantinople,  all  the 
places  where  his  father,  a  poor  Neapolitan  tailor,  had 
lived.  No  one  was  astonished  by  such  vagaries  and 
absent-minded  discrepancies  on  the  part  of  the  extraor- 
dinary virtuoso,  who,  the  moment  he  left  the'  piano, 
seemed  to  move  in  a  world  of  dreams  and  to  be  quite 
incapable  of  adapting  himself  to  any  regular  mode  of 
life.  After  giving  concerts  in  the  large  capitals  of  Europe 
and  South  America,  he  had  settled  down  at  Monte  Carlo, 
explaining  his  residence  there  by  the  war,  while  Don 
Marcos  imputed  it  to  his  love  of  gambHng.  The  Prince 
knew  him  through  having  engaged  him  as  a  member  of 


8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  orchestra  on  board  his  large  yacht,  the  Gaviota  II, 
for  a  voyage  around  the  world. 

Sitting  beside  the  host  was  the  last  guest,  the  latest  to 
frequent  the  house,  a  pale  young  man,  tall,  thin,  and  near- 
sighted, who  was  always  looking  timidly  around  as  though 
ill  at  ease.  He  was  a  professor  from  Spain,  a  Doctor  of 
Science,  Carlos  Novoa,  who  received  a  subsidy  from  the 
Spanish  government  to  make  certain  studies  in  ocean 
fauna  at  the  Oceanographic  Museum.  The  Colonel  who 
had  spent  many  years  at  Monte  Carlo  without  running 
across  any  of  his  compatriots,  other  than  those  whom 
he  saw  around  the  roulette  tables,  had  expressed  a  cer- 
tain patriotic  pride  in  meeting  this  professor  two  months 
previously. 

"A  man  of  learning!  A  famous  scientist!"  he  ex- 
claimed in  speaking  of  his  new  friend.  "They  can  say 
all  they  want  now  about  us  Spaniards  being  ignora- 
muses." 

He  had  only  the  vaguest  notion  of  the  nature  of  his 
fellow  countryman's  learning.  What  is  more:  from  his 
earliest  conversations  he  had  guessed  that  the  professor's 
ideas  were  directly  opposed  to  his  own.  "One  of  those 
heretics  with  no  other  God  than  matter,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. But  he  added  by  way  of  consolation:  "All  those 
learned  men  are  like  that:  liberals  and  free-thinkers. 
What  of  it.  .  .  ."  As  for  the  professor's  fame,  in^the 
opinion  of  Don  Marcos  it  was  unquestionable.  Other- 
wise why  would  they  have  sent  him  to  the  Oceanographic 
Museum,  large  and  white  as  a  temple,  whose  halls  he  had 
visited  only  once,  with  a  feeling  of  awe  that  had  pre- 
vented him  from  ever  going  back  again. 

On  the  occasional  evenings  when  the  professor  would 
go  to  Monte  Carlo  and  chance  to  meet  Don  Marcos,  the 
latter  would  present  him  to  his  friends  as  a  national  cele- 
brity.   In  this  fashion  Novoa  had  made  the  acquaintance 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  9 

of  Castro  and  Spadoni,  who  never  asked  him  more  than 
how  his  luck  was  going. 

When  the  coming  of  the  Prince  was  announced,  Toledo 
insisted  that  his  illustrious  friend  the  Professor  should 
accompany  him  to  the  station  in  order  to  lose  no  time  in 
introducing  him  to  "His  Highness." 

"One  of  our  country's  prides.  .  .  .  Your  Highness 
is  so  fond  of  everything  Spanish." 

Michael  Fedor  had  spent  a  considerable  portion  of  his 
life  on  the  sea,  and  felt  a  certain  sympathy  for  the  modest 
young  man,  on  learning  of  the  studies  in  which  he  spe- 
cialized. 

They  talked  for  a  long  time  about  oceanography,  and 
the  following  day  Prince  Michael,  who  was  in  the  habit 
of  entertaining  elaborately  at  his  table  the  most  divergent 
kinds  of  guests,  said  to  his  "chamberlain" : 

"Your  scholar  is  a  very  fine  fellow.  Invite  him  to 
luncheon." 

The  guests  all  spoke  Spanish.  Spadoni  was  able  to  fol- 
low the  conversation,  with  the  little  he  had  picked  up 
while  giving  piano  recitals  in  Buenos  Ayres,  Santiago, 
and  other  South  American  capitals.  He  had  been  there 
with  an  impresario,  who  finally  got  tired  of  backing  him, 
and  struggling  with  his  childish  irresponsibility. 

As  they  were  sitting  down  at  the  table,  the  Colonel  no- 
ticed that  the  Prince  seemed  preoccupied  with  some  ab- 
sorbing meditation.  He  made  a  point  of  talking  with 
Professor  Novoa,  expressing  his  surprise  at  the  slight 
compensation  the  scientist  received  for  his  studies. 

Castro  and  Spadoni  gave  their  whole  attention  to  their 
food.  The  days  of  the  famous  chef,  to  whom  Prince 
Michael  gave  a  salary  worthy  of  a  Prime  Minister,  were 
over.  The  "master"  had  been  mobilized  and  at  that  mo- 
ment was  cooking  for  a  general  on  the  French  front. 
However.  Toledo  had  managed  to  discover  a  woman  of 


lo  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

some  fifty  years,  whose  combinations  were  less  varied, 
perhaps,  than  those  of  the  artist  whom  the  war  had 
snatched  away,  but  more  "classical,"  more  solid  and  sub- 
stantial— and  the  two  men  ate  with  the  delight  of  people 
who,  forever  obliged  to  eat  in  restaurants  and  hotels,  at 
last  find  themselves  at  a  table  where  no  economy  or  fal- 
sifications are  practised. 

About  dessert  time  the  conversation,  becoming  gen- 
eral, turned,  as  always  happens  when  men  are  dining 
alone,  to  the  subject  of  women.  Toledo  had  a  feeling 
that  the  Prince  had  gently  steered  the  guests'  talk  in  this 
direction.  Suddenly  Michael  summed  up  his  whole  argu- 
ment by  declaring  a  second  time : 

"Man's  greatest  wisdom  consists  in  getting  along  with- 
out women." 

And  then  had  followed  the  long  interruption  as  the 
train  of  English  soldiers,  in  a  whirl  of  shouts,  whistling 
and  hissing,  had  gone  by. 

Atilio  Castro  waited  until  the  last  car  had  disappeared 
in  the  tunnel,  and  said  with  a  subtle  and  somewhat  ironi- 
cal smile: 

"The  shouting  and  whistling  sound  like  a  mixture  of 
applause  and  scorn  for  your  profound  remark.  How- 
ever, please  don't  bother  with  such  inexpert  opinion. 
What  you  said  interests  me.  You  abominate  women,  you 
who  have  had  thousands  of  them !  .    .  Go  on,  Michael !" 

But  the  Prince  changed  the  conversation.  He  spoke  of 
his  impressions  on  returning  to  Villa  Sirena  after  a  long 
absence.  Nothing  remained  to  recall  the  former  days, 
before  the  war,  save  the  building  and  the  gardens.  All 
the  men  servants  were  mobilized :  some  in  the  French 
army,  others  in  the  Italian.  The  day  after  his  arrival  he 
had  asked,  as  a  matter  of  course,  for  an  auto  to  go  to 
Monte  Carlo.  There  was  no  lack  of  machines.  Three, 
of  the  best  make,  were  lying  as  though  forgotten,  in  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  ii 

garage.  But  the  chauffeurs  too  were  at  the  front;  and 
moreover  there  was  no  gasoHne ;  and  a  permit  was  neces- 
sary to  use  the  roads.  ...  In  short,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  stand  at  the  iron  gate  of  the  garden  and  wait 
for  the  Manton  electric.  It  was  a  novelty  for  him,  an  in- 
teresting means  of  locomotion.  It  seemed  as  if  he  had 
suddenly  been  transported  into  a  world  he  had  forgot- 
ten, as  he  found  himself  among  the  common  people  on 
the  car.  The  general  curiosity  annoyed  him.  Everyone 
was  whispering  his  name :  and  even  the  conductor  showed 
a  certain  emotion  on  seeing  the  owner  of  Villa  Sirena 
among  his  passengers. 

"And  the  worst  of  it  all,  my  friends,  is  that  I'm 
ruined !" 

Spadoni  stared  with  wide  opened  eyes  as  though  hear- 
ing something  extraordinary  and  absurd.  Castro  smiled 
incredulously. 

"You  ruined?  ...  I'd  be  satisfied  with  a  tenth  of 
the  remains." 

The  Prince  nodded.  He  reminded  one  of  those  great 
transatlantic  liners  which,  when  they  are  wrecked,  make 
the  fortune  of  a  whole  population  of  poverty  stricken 
people  along  the  shore.  Wealth  was  of  course  a  rela- 
tive thing.  He  might  still  have  more  than  many  people ; 
but  ruin  it  was  for  him,  nevertheless. 

"In  view  of  what  I  am  going  to  say  later,  I  must  not 
conceal  from  you  the  situation  I  am  in.  A  few  weeks  ago 
I  sold  my  Paris  residence  which  my  mother  built.  It  was 
bought  by  a  'newly  rich.'  With  this  war,  I'm  going  to 
become  a  'newly  poor.'  You  know,  Atilio,  how  things 
have  gone  with  me,  since  this  row  among  the  nations 
started.  From  the  time  they  fired  the  first  cannon  they 
sent  me  from  Russia  only  an*  eighth,  of  what  I  received  in 
times  of  peace ;  later  much  less.  The  revolution  came  and 
cut  down  my  income  still  more.    And,  now  under  Com- 


12  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

fade  Lenin  and  the  red  flag,  there  is  nothing  coming 
through  at  all,  absolutely  nothing.  I  have  no  idea  what- 
soever of  the  fate  of  my  houses,  my  fields,  my  mines.  .  . 
I  don't  know  even  what  has  become  of  those  who  were 
looking  after  my  fortune  there.  They  have  probably  all 
been  killed." 

The  Colonel  raised  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling :  "The  revo- 
lution !     .    .    .     What  they  need  is  a  master." 

"But  a  rich  man  like  you  with  reserve  funds  in  the 
bank  all  the  time,  can  always  find  some  one  to  make 
him  a  loan  until  times  are  better." 

"Perhaps ;  but  it  means  practically  poverty  for  me.  My 
administrator  told  me  when  I  was  leaving  Paris,  that  I 
ought  to  limit  my  expenses,  live  according  to  my  present 
income.  How  much  have  I?  ...  I  don't  know.  He 
doesn't  even  know  himself.  He  is  balancing  my  accounts, 
collecting  from  some  people  and  paying  others — -I  had  a 
lot  of  debts,  it  seems.  Millionaires  are  never  asked  to 
pay  their  bills  promptly.  ...  In  short,  I  shall  have  to 
live,  like  a  ruined  prince,  on  some  sixty  thousand  dollars 
a  year ;  perhaps  more,  perhaps  less.    I  really  don't  know." 

Castro  and  Spadoni  seemed  to  be  stirred  with  longing 
at  the  mention  of  such  a  sum.  Novoa  looked  with  an  air 
of  respect  at  this  man  who  called  himself  his  friend  and 
thought  himself  poor  with  sixty  thousand  dollars  a  year. 

"My  administrator  spoke  to  me  of  selling  Villa  Sirena 
as  well  as  the  Paris  residence.  It  seems  that  the  newly 
rich  would  like  to  get  everything  I  have.  A  complete  li- 
quidation. .  .  .  But  I  wouldn't  listen  to  it.  This  is 
my  own  little  nook;  I  made  it  what  it  is  myself.  Besides, 
life  is  impossible  out  in  the  world.  The  war  has  filled  it 
with  bitterness.  Living  in  Paris  is  very  gloomy.  There 
is  no  one  there.  The  streets  are  dark.  The  'Gothas' 
make  the  people  of  our  class  worried  and  nervous.    It  is 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  13 

much  better  to  leave.  I  thought  I  would  settle  down  here 
and  wait  till  this  world  madness  is  over." 

"It  is  going  to  be  a  long  wait,"  remarked  Castro. 

"I'm  afraid  so.  However,  this  is  an  agreeable  spot, 
a  pleasant  refuge,  all  the  more  delightful  because  of  the 
selfish  feeling  that  at  this  very  moment  millions  of  men 
are  suffering  every  sort  of  hardship,  and  thousands  are 
dying  every  day.  .  .  .  But  after  all,  it  isn't  the  same 
as  it  used  to  be.  Even  the  Mediterranean  is  different. 
The  minute  the  sun  goes  down,  my  good  Colonel  has  to 
mask  with  black  curtains  the  windows  and  doors  looking 
out  on  the  sea,  so  that  the  German  submarines  cannot 
guide  themselves  by  our  lights.  .  .  .  Dear  me !  Where 
are  those  wonderful  days  we  spent  here  in  time  of  peace, 
the  festivals  we  used  to  have,  those  nights  on  the  Gaviotta 
II  when  she  anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Monaco?" 

A  far  away  look  came  into  Castro's  eyes,  as  though 
he  were  in  a  dream.  In  his  imaginings  he  saw  the  gar- 
dens of  Villa  Sirena,  softly  lighted,  wrapped  in  a  milky 
haze  that  settled  on  the  invisible  waves  like  rays  of  re- 
flected moonlight. 

The  window  curtains  were  crimson,  and  from  them, 
drifting  through  the  warm  darkness  of  the  night,  came 
the  sound  of  laughter,  cries,  the  sighing  of  violins,  amor- 
ous love  songs,  that  told  of  women's  throats,  white  and 
voluptuous,  swelling  with  desire  and  the  rapture  of  the 
music.  The  stars,  specks  of  light  lost  in  the  infinite, 
twinkled  in  answer  to  the  electric  stars,  hidden  in  the  dark 
foliage.  Walking  slowly,  couples  arm  in  arm  disappeared 
amid  the  deep  shadows  of  the  garden.  All  the  women  of 
the  day  had  turned  up  there  sooner  or  later:  famous 
actresses  from  Paris,  London,  and  Vienna;  beauties  of 
the  smart  cliques  of  two  hemispheres,  women  of  high 
society,  smiling  the  smile  of  slaves  before  the  potentate 


14  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

who  could  banish  their  debts  with  the  stroke  of  a  pen. 
Oh,  the  Pompeian  nights  of  Villa  Sirena !  .  .  . 

Spadoni  saw,  rather,  the  Gaviotta  II,  a  palace  with  pro- 
pellers, which,  when  anchored  in  the  small  harbor  of  La 
Condamine,  seemed  to  fill  it  completely  and  to  make  the 
yachts  of  the  American  millionaires  and  the  Prince  of 
Monaco  look  like  tiny  things  indeed.  It  was  an  alcazar, 
a  palace  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  topped  off  with  two 
smoke  stacks,  and  parading  over  every  sea  of  the  planet, 
its  private  parlors  adorned  .with  fountains  and  statues, 
its  enormous  library,  its  ball  room  with  a  raised  platform, 
from  which  fifty  musicians,  many  of  them  celebrated, 
gave  concerts  for  a  single  visible  auditor.  Prince  Michael, 
who  half  reclined  on  a  divan,  while  the  tropical  breeze 
came  through  the  high  windows,  caressing  the  heads  of 
the  officers  and  chief  functionaries  of  the  steamer  crowd- 
ing about  the  openings.  The  pianist  could  see  once  more 
the  lonely  harbors  of  dead  historic  countries,  with  flights 
of  seagulls  wheeling  against  the  quiet  azure  vault ;  the 
mighty  bays,  filled  with  the  smoke  and  bustle  of  North 
America ;  the  coasts  of  the  Antilles  with  groves  of  cocoa- 
nut  palms,  black  at  sunset  against  the  reddish  sky;  the 
islands  of  the  Pacific,  of  hard  coral,  forming  a  ring  about 
an  inner  lake.  .  .  .  And  that  omnipotent  magician  con- 
fessed the  loss  of  his  wealth !     .     .     . 

The  Prince,  as  though  he  guessed  their  thoughts, 
added : 

"It's  the  end  of  all  that:  I  don't  know  whether  for- 
ever or  for  many  years.  .  .  .  And  even  if  things  should 
be  the  same  some  day  as  they  were  before  the  war,  what 
a  long  time  we  shall  have  to  wait !  .  .  .  I  may  die  be- 
fore then.  .  .  .  That  is  why  I  am  going  to  make  a  pro- 
posal to  you." 

He  paused  a  moment,  to  enjoy  the  curiosity  he  read  in 
the  eyes  of  his  auditors. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  15 

Then  he  asked  Castro: 

"Are  you  satisfied  with  your  present  life?" 

In  spite  of  Castro's  good  natured,  smiling  placidity, 
he  started  in  surprise  as  if  indignant  at  such  a  question. 
His  life  was  unbearable.  The  war  had  upset  his  habits 
and  pleasures,  scattering  his  friendships  to  the  four 
winds.  He  did  not  know  the  fate  of  hundreds  of  per- 
sons of  various  nationalities,  who  had  filled  his  life  be- 
fore the  war,  and  without  whom  he  would  then  have 
thought  it  impossible  to  live. 

"Besides,  I  have  less  money  than  ever.  I  am  staying 
at  Monte  Carlo  just  for  the  gambling;  and  even  if  I 
always  lose  in  the  end,  like  everyone  else,  I  always  keep  a 
tight  grip  on  a  little  something  to  live  on!  .  .  .  But 
what  a  life !" 

He  glanced  at  Novoa  as  though  the  recency  of  his  ac- 
quaintance inspired  a  certain  suspicion,  but  immediately 
he  went  on,  with  an  air  of  assurance : 

"There  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  speak  quite  plain- 
ly. A  little  while  ago  the  Professor  told  us  how  much 
he  earned :  some  hundred  dollars  a  month ;  less  than  any 
employee  at  the  Casino.  I  am  going  to  be  as  frank  as 
he.  I  live  in  the  Hotel  de  Paris:  Atilio  Castro  cannot 
afford  to  live  anywhere  else ;  he  must  keep  up  his  connec- 
tions. But  there  are  many  weeks  when  I  have  the  great- 
est difficulty  in  paying  for  my  room,  and  I  eat  in  cheap 
restaurants  and  Italian  wine  shops,  when  no  one  invites 
me  out  to  dine.  I  pay  three  or  four  times  as  much  for  my 
bed  as  I  do  for  my  board.  Evenings  when  luck  is  against 
me,  and  I  lose  everything  to  the  last  chip,  I  get  along  with 
a  ham  sandwich  at  the  Casino  bar.  I  belong  to  the  same 
school  as  the  Madrid  gambler  we  nicknamed  the  'Mas- 
ter,' and  who  used  to  say  to  us :  'Boys,  money  was  made 
for  gambling ;  and  what's  left,  for  eating.'  " 


i6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"And  in  spite  of  that,  you  like  good  food,"  said  the 
Prince. 

Castro's  laments  took  on  a  comical  seriousness.  With 
the  war  the  good  old  customs  had  been  forgotten.  No 
one  kept  house;  everyone  lived  in  hotels,  and  the  pro- 
prietors of  the  luxurious  palaces  took  the  scarcity  of  food 
as  a  pretext  to  serve  the  sort  of  meals  one  gets  in  third 
rate  restaurants,  scanty  and  poor.  An  invitation  merely 
gave  one  a  chance  to  fool  one's  hunger. 

"It  has  been  months,  maybe  years,  since  I've  eaten  as  I 
have  to-day,  and  I've  sat  at  the  tables  of  all  the  big  hotels 
on  the  Riviera.  I  had  ceased  to  believe  that  such  chicken 
as  you  have  just  served  existed  in  the  world  any  longer. 
I  imagined  they  were  dream  birds,  m)rthological  fowl." 

The  Colonel  smiled,  bowing  as  if  that  were  a  tribute  to 
him. 

"And  you,  Spadoni?"  the  Prince  went  on  inquiringly. 
"How  are  you  enjoying  life?" 

"Your  Highness — I — I,"  stammered  the  musician,  at 
the  sudden  question. 

Castro  intervened,  coming  to  his  rescue. 

"Our  friend  Spadoni  can  always  get  a  free  meal  at 
the  villas  of  a  number  of  invalid  ladies,  who  live  at  Cap- 
Martin  and  who  are  mad  about  music.  Besides  some 
English  people  at  Nice  often  invite  him.  He  doesn't  need 
to  bother  about  paying  hotel  bills  either.  He  has  at  his 
disposal  a  whole  big  villa,  large  and  well-furnished :  it 
goes  with  his  job,  as  watchman  over  a  corpse." 

Novoa  started  with  surprise  at  the  news. 

"Don't  be  astonished,"  continued  Atilio.  "He  has  the 
benefit  of  a  magnificent  house  in  exchange  for  looking 
after  a  tomb." 

"Oh,  Professor!  .  .  .  Don't  mind  him,"  groaned  the 
musician  with  the  air  of  a  martyr. 

"But  with  all  these  advantages,"  Castro  went  on  say- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  17 

ing,  "there  is  one  terrible  drawback :  he  is  a  worse  gamb- 
ler than  I.  He  has  a  nickname  in  the  Casino  'the  number 
five  gentleman.'  He  never  plays  any  other  number.  Any- 
thing he  can  get  hold  of  he  puts  on  five,  and  loses  it.  I 
am  the  'number  seventeen  gentleman'  and  it  turns  out  as 
badly  with  me  as  with  him.  .  .  .  Besides,  he  has  his 
English  friends.  Queer  ducks !  They  come  from  Nice 
every  day  in  a  two  horse  landau,  and  just  as  if  they  didn't 
get  enough  gambling  with  the  Casino,  they  set  up  a  green 
table  on  their  knees  and  take  out  a  deck  of  cards.  They 
play  poker  with  the  Corniche  landscape,  that  people  come 
from  all  over  the  world  to  see,  right  before  their  eyes. 
And  our  artist,  when  he  takes  a  fourth  hand  with  the  two 
Englishmen  and  an  old  maid,  there  within  the  sight  of  the 
Mediterranean,  golden  in  the  setting  sun,  loses  every- 
thing he  took  in  at  some  concert  at  Cannes  or  Monte 
Carlo." 

Spadoni  started  to  say  something,  but  stopped,  seeing 
that  the  Prince  turned  to  Novoa : 

"I  shan't  ask  you,"  said  the  Prince ;  "I  know  your  situa- 
tion. You  live  in  the  old  part  of  Monaco,  in  the  house 
of  an  employee  of  the  Museum;  and  his  lodgings  can't 
be  much.  Besides,  as  Atilio  was  saying,  you  receive 
much  less  than  a  croupier  at  the  Casino." 

And  looking  at  his  guests  he  added : 

"What  I  want  to  propose  to  you  is  that  you«live  with 
me.  The  invitation  is  a  selfish  one  on  my  part  I'm  not 
denying  that.  I  intend  to  stay  here  until  the  world  quiets 
down,  and  life  is  pleasant  once  more.  If  my  Colonel  and 
I  were  here  alone  we  would  end  b)^  hating  each  other. 
You  will  keep  me  company  in  my  retreat." 

All  three  remained  dumbfounded  at  such  an  unex- 
pected proposal.  Novoa  was  the  first  to»regain»the  use  of 
his  tongue. 

"Prince,  you  scarcely  know  me.     We  saw  each  other 


i8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

for  the  first  time  three  days  ago.  ...  I  don't  know 
whether  I  ought.  .  .  ." 

The  Prince  interrupted  him  with  the  sharp  tone  and 
imperious  manner  of  a  man  who  is  not  accustomed  to 
considering  objections. 

"We  have  known  each  other  for  many  years ;  we  have 
known  each  other  all  our  lives."  Then  he  added  sooth- 
ingly : 

"It  isn't  much  that  I'm  offering  you.  Servants  are 
scarce.  There  are  no  men  except  my  old  valet  and  those 
two  Italian  monkeys  that  the  Colonel  managed  to  recruit 
somewhere.  The  rest  of  the  service  is  done  by  women. 
.  .  .  But  even  so,  our  life  will  be  pleasant.  We  shall 
isolate  ourselves  from  a  world  gone  crazy.  We  will  not 
mention  this  war.  We  shall  lead  a  comfortable  existence, 
as  the  monks  did  in  the  monasteries  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
which  were  refreshing  oases  of  tranquillity  in  the  midst  of 
violence  and  massacres.  We  shall  eat  well;  the  Colonel 
guarantees  me  that.  The  Library  from  the  yacht  is  here. 
When  I  sold  the  boat,  I  had  Don  Marcos  install  all  my 
books  on  the  top  floor.  Our  friend  Novoa  will  find  some 
volumes  there  which  perhaps  he  does  not  know.  Every- 
one will  do  what  he  pleases ;  free  monks  all  of  us,  with 
"no  other  obligation  than  to  repair  to  the  refectory  at  the 
proper  hour.  And  if  the  'number  five  gentleman'  and 
the  'number  seventeen  gentleman'  want  to  drop  in  at  the 
Casino,  they  can  do  so,  and  someone  will  see  to  it  that 
their  pockets  are  kept  filled.  We  must  give  something  to 
vice,  what  the  devil!  Without  vices,  life  wouldn't  be 
worth  living." 

A  silent  approbation  greeted  these  words  of  the  master 
of  Villa  Sirena. 

"The  one  thing  I  insist  on,"  continued  the  Prince  after 
a  long  pause,  "is  that  we  live  alone,  as  men  among  men. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  19 

No  women!  Women  must  be  excluded  from  our  life  in 
common." 

The  pianist  opened  his  eyes  in  astonishment;  Castro 
stirred  in  his  chair;  Novoa  removed  his  glasses  with  a 
mechanical  gesture  of  surprise,  immediately  adjusting 
them  once  more  to  his  nose. 

There  was  another  silence. 

"What  you  propose,"  said  Atilio,  at  last,  with  a  smile, 
"reminds  me  of  a  comedy  of  Shakespeare.  No  women! 
And  the  hero  in  the  end  gets  married." 

"I  know  that  play,"  replied  the  Prince,  "but  I  am  not 
in  the  habit  of  governing  my  life  according  to  comedies, 
and  I  don't  believe  in  their  teachings.  You  can  rest  as- 
sured that  I  shan't  marry,  even  if  it  gives  the  lie  to 
Shakespeare  and  the  French  king  from  whose  chronicle 
te  got  the  material  for  his  work." 

"But  what  you're  attempting  is  absurd,"  Castro  went 
on :  "I  don't  know  what  the  rest  think,  but  prevent  me 
from  .    .    .  I" 

With  a  gesture  he  ended  his  protest. 

Then  seeing  that  the  Prince  had  remained  thoughtful, 
he  added : 

"It  is  quite  evident  that  you  have  had  your  fill !  .  .  . 
You  have  gotten  all  you  wanted,  and  now  you  want  to 
force  on  us     .     .     ." 

The  Prince,  although  absorbed  in  his  own  train  of 
thought,  he  had  not  heard  him,  interrupted. 

"Seeing  that  you  can't  get  along  without  it  .  .  .  All 
right!  I  have  no  fixed  intention  of  making  a  martyr  of 
you.  Go  on  being  a  slave  to  a  necessity  that  is  a  result 
more  of  the  imagination  than  of  desire.  Now  that  I 
really  know  life,  I  am  astonished  that  men  do  so  many 
foolish  things  for  the*sake  of  a  passing  pleasure.  While 
you  are  here  you  may  satisfy  your  whims  whenever  you 
like  .    .    .  but  no  women." 


20  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  three  listeners  looked  at  one  another  in  astonish- 
ment ;  and  even  the  Colonel,  who  never  betrayed  his  feel- 
ing when  his  "lord"  was  speaking,  showed  a  certain  sur- 
prise on  his  countenance.     What  did  the  Prince  mean? 

"You  are  not  ignorant,  Atilio,  of  what  a  woman  is.  In 
the  great  majority  of  peoples  on  this  earth  there  are  only 
females.  There  are  young  females  and  old  females ;  but 
there  are  no  'women.'  Woman,  as  we  understand  the 
word,  is  the  artificial  product  of  civilizations  which,  some- 
what like  hot-house  flowers,  have  reached  their  maturity 
with  a  complex  perverse  beauty.  Only  in  the  large  cities 
that  have  come  to  be  decadent  because  they  have  reached 
their  limits,  do  you  find  'women.'  Not  being  mothers 
like  the  poor  females,  they  give  up  all  their  time  to  love, 
prolong  their  youth  marvelously,  and  scheme  to  inspire 
passions  at  an  age  when  the  others  live  like  grandmothers. 
There  you  have  the  creatures  that,  personally,  I  am  afraid 
of!  If  they  come  in  here,  it's  the  end  of  our  society,  our 
tranquil,  even  life." 

The  Prince  arose  from  the  table,  and  they  all  followed 
suit.  Lunch  being  over  they  all  passed  into  the  great 
hall  adjoining,  where  coffee  was  served.  The  Colonel 
looked  about  anxiously,  examining  the  boxes  of  Havanas, 
and  the  large  liquor  chest  with  its  varied  cut  glass  and 
colored  flasks,  placed  in  a  row. 

While  cutting  the  tip  of  his  cigar,  the  Prince  contin- 
ued, speaking  all  the  while  to  Castro : 

"When  you  want  .  .  .  anything  like  that,  all  you 
need  do  is  to  choose  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Casino.  A  hun- 
dred or  two  francs ;  and  then,  good-by !  .  .  .  But  the 
other  ones !  The  women !  They  work  their  way  into  our 
lives,  and  finally  dominate  us,  and  want  to  mold  our 
ways  to  suit  their  own.  Their  love  for  us  after  all  is 
merely  vanity,  like  that  of  the  conqueror  who  loves  the 
land  that  he  has  conquered  with  violence.     They  have 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  21 

all  read  books — nearly  always  stupidly  and  without  un- 
derstanding, to  be  sure,  but  they  have  read  books — and 
such  reading  leaves  them  determined  to  satisfy  all  sorts 
of  vag^e  desires,  and  absurd  whims,  that  succeed  only  in 
making  slaves  of  us,  and  in  moving  us  to  act  on  impulses 
we  have  acquired  in  our  own  early  romantic  readings. 
...  I  know  them,  I  have  met  too  many  of  them  in  my 
life.  If  women  from  our  social  sphere  mingle  with  us 
here,  it  means  an  end  to  peace.  They  will  seek  me  out 
through  curiosity  on  remembering  my  past  life,  or  greed 
in  thinking  of  my  wealth;  as  for  you  men,  they  will  come 
between  you,  making  you  jealous  of  one  another  and  the 
life  that  I  desire  here  will  be  impossible.  .  .  .  Besides, 
we  are  poor." 

Atilio  protested,  smilingly :    "Oh !  poor !" 

"Poor  when  it  comes  to  the  follies  of 'the  old  days," 
continued  the  Prince,  "and  for  love  one  needs  money.  All 
that  talk  about  love  being  a  disinterested  thing  was  made 
up  by  poor  people,  who  are  satisfied  with  imitations. 
There  is  a  glitter  of  gold  at  the  bottom  of  every  passion. 
At  first  we  don't  think  of  such  things;  desire  blinds 
us.  All  we  see  is  the  immediate  domination  of  the  per- 
son so  sweetly  our  adversary.  But  love  invariably  ends 
by  giving  or  taking  money." 

"Take  money  from  a  woman !  .  .  .  Never !"  said  Cas- 
tro, losing  his  ironic  smile. 

"You  will  end  by  taking  it,  if  you  are  poor,  and  fre- 
quent the  society  of  women.  Those  of  our  times  think 
of  nothing  but  money.  When  their  love  is  a  rich  man, 
they  ask  him  for  it,  even  if  they  have  a  large  fortune  of 
their  own.  They  feel  less  worthy  if  they  don't  ask. 
When  they  are  fond  of  a  poor  man,  they  force  him  to 
receive  gifts  from  them.  They  dominate  him  better  by 
degrading  him.  Besides,  in  doing  so  they  feel  the  selfish 
satisfaction  of  the  person  who  gives  alms.     Woman, 


22  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

having  always  been  forced  to  beg  from  man,  has  the 
greatest  sensation  of  pride,  and  thinks  she  in  turn  can 
give  money  to  some  one  of  the  sex  that  has  always  sup- 
ported her." 

Novoa,  cup  in  hand,  listened  attentively  to  the  Prince. 
Lubimoff  was  speaking  of  a  world  quite  unknown  to  him. 
Spadoni,  as  he  sipped  his  coffee,  with  a  vague  look  in  his 
eyes,  was  thinking  of  something  far  away. 

"Now  you  know  the  worst,  Atilio,"  the  Prince  went  on. 
"No  women !  .  .  .  That  way  we  will  lead  a  great  life. 
All  the  morning,  free !  We  shan't  see  one  another  until 
lunch  time.  Down  below  is  the  cove,  there  are  still  a 
number  of  boats.  We  can  fish,  while  it's  sunny ;  we  can 
go  rowing.  In  the  afternoon  you  will  go  to  the  Casino; 
occasionally  I  shall  go,  too,  to  hear  some  concert.  Spring 
is  drawing  near.  At  night,  sitting  on  the  terrace,  watch- 
ing the  stars,  our  friend  Novoa,  the  man  of  learning  of 
our  monastery,  will  expound  the  music  of  the  spheres ; 
and  Spadoni,  our  musician,  will  sit  down  at  the  piano, 
and  delight  us  with  terrestrial  music." 

"Splendid !"  exclaimed  Castro.  "You  are  almost  a  poet 
in  describing  our  future  life,  and  you  have  persuaded  me. 
We  are  going  to  be  happy.  But  don't  forget  your  per- 
mission for  the  'female,'  and  your  prohibit'.">n  of  'wo- 
men.' No  skirts  in  Villa  Sirena !  Nothing  but  men ; 
monks  in  trousers,  selfish  and  tolerant,  coming  together 
to  live  a  pleasant  life,  while  the  world  is  aflame." 

Atilio  remained  thoughtful  a  few  moments,  and  con- 
tinued : 

"We  need  a  name;  our  community  must  have  a  title. 
We  shall  call  ourselves  'the  enemies  of  women'." 

The  Prince  smiled. 

"The  name  mustn't  go  any  farther  than  ourselves.  If 
people  outside  learned  of  it,  they  might  think  it  meant 
something  else." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  23 

Novoa,  feeling  honored  by  his  new  intimacy  with  men 
so  different  from  those  with  whom  he  had  previously  as- 
sociated, accepted  the  name  with  enthusiasm. 

"I  confess,  gentlemen,  that  according  to  the  distinction 
made  by  the  Prince,  I  have  never  known  a  'woman'.  Fe- 
males .  .  .  poor  ones,  to  be  sure,  a  very  few  perhaps ! 
But  I  like  the  name,  and  agree  to  join  the  'enemies  of 
women'  even  though  a  woman  is  never  to  enter  my  life." 

Spadoni,  as  though  suddenly  awakening,  turned  to  Cas- 
tro, and  continued  his  thought  aloud. 

"It's  a  system  of  stakes  invented  by  an  English  lord, 
now  dead,  who  won  millions  by  it.  They  explained  it  to 
me  yesterday.     First  you  place  ..." 

"No,  no,  you  satanic  pianist !"  exclaimed  Atilio.  "You 
can  explain  it  to  me  in  the  Casino,  providing  I  have  the 
curiosity  to  listen.  You've  made  me  lose  a  lot,  with  all 
your  systems.  I  had  better  go  on  playing  your  'number 
five/" 

The  Colonel,  who  had  listened  in  silence  to  the  conver- 
sation in  regard  to  women,  seemed  to  recall  something 
when  Castro  mentioned  gambling. 

"Last  evening,"  he  said  to  the  Prince,  in  a  mysterious 
voice,  "I  met  the  Duchess  in  the  Casino"  .    .    . 

A  look  of  silent  questioning  halted  his  words. 

"What  Duchess  is  that?" 

"The  question  is  quite  in  point,  Michael,"  said  Atilio. 
"Your  'chamberlain'  is  better  acquainted  in  society  than 
any  man  on  the  Riviera.  He  knows  princesses  and  duch- 
esses by  the  dozen.  I  have  seen  him  dining  in  the  Hotel 
de  Paris  with  all  the  ancient  French  nobility,  who  come 
here  to  console  themselves  for  the  long  time  it  takes  to 
bring  back  their  former  kings.  In  the  private  rooms  in 
the  Casino,  he  is  always  kissing  wrinkled  hands  and  bow- 
ing to  some  group  of  disgusting  mummies  loaded  down 
with  the  oldest  and  most  famous  names.    Some  of  them 


24  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

call  him  simply  'Colonel' ;  others  introduce  him  with  the 
title  of  'aide  de  camp  of  Prince  Lubimoff'." 

Don  Marcos  stiffened,  offended  by  the  waggish  tone  in 
which  his  high  estate  was  being  mentioned,  and  said 
haughtily : 

"Senor  de  Castro,  I  am  a  soldier  grown  old  in  defense 
of  Legitimacy ;  I  shed  my  blood  for  the  sacred  tradition, 
and  there  is  nothing  remarkable  about  my  association 
with    ..." 

The  Prince  knowing  by  experience  that  the  Colonel  did 
not  know  what  time  was,  when  once  he  began  to  talk 
about  "legitimacy"  and  the  blood  he  had  shed,  hastened 
to  interrupt  him. 

"All  right ;  we  know  that  very  well  already.  But  who 
was  this  Duchess  you  met  ?" 

"The  Duchess  de  Delille.  She  often  asks  about  your 
Highness,  and  upon  hearing  that  you  had  just  arrived, 
she  gave  me  to  understand  that  she  intended  paying  you 
a  call." 

The  Prince  replied  with  a  simple  exclamation,  and  then 
remained  silent 

"We  are  starting  well,"  said  Castro,  laughing.  '*  'No 
women !'  And  immediately  the  Colonel  announces  a  visit 
from  one  of  them,  one  of  the  most  dangerous.  .  .  .  For 
you  will  admit  that  a  Duchess  like  that  is  one  of  the 
'women'  you  described  to  us." 

"I  won't  receive  her,"  said  the  Prince  resolutely. 

"I  have  an  idea  that  this  Duchess  is  a  cousin  of  yours." 

"There  is  no  such  relationship.  Her  father  was  the 
brother  of  my  mother's  second  husband.  But  we  have 
known  each  other  since  childhood,  and  we  each  have  a 
most  unpleasant  memory  of  one  another.  When  I  was 
living  in  Russia  she  married  a  French  Duke.  She  had 
the  same  desire  as  the  majority  of  wealthy  American 
girk :  a  great  title  of  nobility  in  order  to  make  her  friends 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  25 

among  the  fair  sex  jealous  and  to  shine  in  European  cir- 
cles. A  few  months  later  she  left  the  Duke,  assigning 
him  a  certain  income,  which  is  just  what  her  noble  hus- 
band wanted  perhaps.  This  woman  Alicia  never  ap- 
pealed to  me  particularly.  .  .  .  Besides,  she  has  lived 
life  just  as  she  pleased.  .  .  .  She  has  seen  almost  as 
much  of  it  as  I  have.  She  has  as  much  of  a  reputation 
as  I.  They  even  accuse  her,  just  as  they  do  me,  of  love 
affairs  with  people  she  has  never  seen.  .  .  .  They  tell 
me  that  in  recent  years  she  has  been  parading  around  with 
a  young  lad,  almost  a  child  ,  .  .  dear  me !  We  are  get- 
ting old!" 

"I  saw  her  with  him  in  Paris,"  said  Castro.  "It  was 
before  the  war.  Later  in  Monte  Carlo  I  met  her,  all  by 
herself,  without  being  able  to  find  a  trace  of  her  young 
chap  anywhere.  He  must  have  been  a  passing  fancy  of 
hers.  .  .  ,  She  has  been  here  three  years  now.  When 
summer  comes  she  moves  to  Aix-les-Bains,  or  to  Biarritz, 
but  as  soon  as  the  Casino  is  gay  and  fashionable  again, 
she  is  one  of  the  first  to  return." 

"Does  she  play  ?** 

"Desperately.  She  plays  high  stakes  and  plays  them 
badly,  although  we  who  think  we  play  well  always  lose 
just  the  same,  in  the  end.  I  mean,  she  puts  her  money 
on  the  table  without  thinking,  in  several  places  at  a  time, 
and  then  even  forgets  where  she  placed  it.  The  'leveurs 
des  morts'  are  always  hanging  around  to  pick  up  the 
pieces  that  no  one  claims  and  when  she  wins,  they  always 
manage  to  get  something  of  it.  She  gambled  for  two 
years  with  nothing  less  than  chips  of  five  hundred  and  a 
thousand  francs-  At  present  her  chips  are  never  for  more 
than  a  hundred.  It  won't  be  long  before  she  is  using  the 
red  ones,  the  twenties,  the  favorites  of  your  humble  ser- 
vant." 

"I  shall  refuse  to  receive  her,"*  affirmed  the  Prince. 


26  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

And  doubtless  in  order  not  to  talk  any  more  about  the 
Duchess  de  Delille,  he  suddenly  left  his  friends,  and 
walked  out  of  the  room. 

Atilio,  in  a  conversational  mood,  turned  and  asked  a 
question  of  Don  Marcos,  who  was  speaking  with  Novoa, 
while  Spadoni  went  on  dreaming,  with  eyes  wide  open,  of 
the  English  lord's  system. 

"Have  you  seen  Dona  Enriqueta  lately?" 

"Are  you  asking  me  about  the  Infanta?"  replied  the 
Colonel  gravely.  "Yes,  I  met  her  yesterday,  in  the  court- 
yards of  the  Casino.  Poor  lady!  If  it  isn't  a  shame! 
The  daughter  of  a  king.  .  .  .  She  told  me  that  her 
sons  haven't  anything  to  wear.  She  owes  two  hundred 
francs  for  cigarettes,  at  the  bar  of  the  private  play  rooms. 
She  can't  find  anyone  who  will  lend  her  money.  Besides, 
she  has  frightful  bad  luck;  she  loses  everything.  These 
are  fatal  days  for  people  of  royal  blood.  I  almost  wept 
when  I  heard  all  her  poverty  and  troubles,  and  felt  that 
I  couldn't  give  her  anything  more.  The  daughter  of  a 
king?" 

"But  her  father  disowned  her,  when  she  eloped  with 
some  unknown  artist,"  said  Atilio.  "And  besides,  Don 
Carlos  wasn't  a  king  anywhere." 

"Senor  de  Castro,"  replied  the  Colonel,  drawing  him- 
self up,  like  a  rooster,  "let's  not  spoil  the  party.  You 
know  my  ideas :  I  have  shed  my  blood  in  the  cause  of 
Legitimacy,  and  the  respect  that  I  have  for  you  should 
not   .    .    ." 

Novoa,  wishing  to  calm  Don  Marcos,  intervened  in  the 
conversation. 

"Monte  Carlo  here  is  like  a  beach,  where  all  sorts  of 
wreckage,  living  and  dead,  is  washed  up  sooner  or  later. 
In  the  Hotel  de  Paris  there  is  another  member  of  the 
family,  but  of  the  successful  branch,  the  one  that  is 
ruling  and  taking  in  the  money." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  27 

"I  know  him,"  said  Atilio,  laughing.  "He's  a  young 
man  of  calipigous  exuberance  and  wherever  he  goes  his 
handsome  gentleman  secretary  goes  with  him.  He  al- 
ways meets  some  venerable  old  lady  who,  dazzled  by  his 
royal  kinship,  takes  it  upon  herself  to  keep  up  his  ex- 
travagant mode  of  living.  .  .  .  Don't  know  what  the 
devil  he  can  possibly  give  her  in  return !  As  for  the  sec- 
retary, he  gives  him  a  slap  from  time  to  time  just  to  as- 
sert his  ancient  rights." 

Don  Marcos  remainel  silent.  He  was  not  interested  in 
the  members  of  that  branch,  not  he. 

"Also,"  Castro  continued  mischievously,  "in  the  Casino 
before  the  war,  I  met  Don  Jaime,  your  own  king  at  pres- 
ent. A  great  fellow  for  gambling!  He  risked  thousand 
franc  chips  by  the  handful.  He  had  a  lot  of  money  com- 
ing from  somewhere.  In  the  Casino  they  all  used  to  say 
that  it  was  sent  him  from  Madrid,  on  condition  that  he 
should  have  no  children  and  allow  his  claims  to  the  throne 
to  die  out  with  him." 

"And  just  to  think,"  murmured  Novoa,  without  realiz- 
ing that  he  was  speaking  aloud,  "that  .for  both  of  these 
families,  back  there,  so  many  men  have  killed  one  an-« 
other.  To  think,  that  for  a  question  of  inheritance  among 
people  like  that  we  have  gone  back  a  century  in  European 
life!" 

"You  too!"  exclaimed  the  Colonel,  provoked  again. 
"A  scholar,  saying  a  thing  like  that!  I  can  hardly  be- 
lieve my  ears!" 


CHAPTER  II 

At  the  end  of  the  second  Carlist  war  a  Spanish  officer, 
Don  Miguel  Saldana,  had  found  himself,  as  a  result  of 
the  defeat,  banished  forever  from  his  own  country  and 
condemned  to  a  life  of  poverty  and  obscurity.  The  Mad- 
rid papers,  without  prefixing  his  name  with  any  slander- 
ous abjectives,  called  him  simply  "the  rebel  chief  Sal- 
dana." This  courtesy,  doubtless,  was  intended  to  distin- 
guish him  from  the  other  party  chiefs  who  in  Aragon, 
Catalonia,  and  Valencia,  had  waged  a  campaign  of  pillage 
and  executions  for  five  years.  Among  his  own  people  he 
was  known  as  General  Miguel  Saldana,  Marquis  of  Villa- 
blanca.  The  pretender,  Don  Carlos,  had  given  him  that 
title  because  Villablanca  was  the  name  of  the  town  where 
Saldana  had  practically  annihilated  a  column  of  the  Lib- 
eral army.  The  topographical  information  of  Saldana's 
Chief  of  Staff — a  local  priest  who  had  spent  his  whole 
life  in  doing  nothing  except  saying  mass  on  Sundays  and 
spending  the  rest  of  the  week  hunting  in  the  mountains 
with  his  dog  and  gun — gave  him  an  opportunity  to  take 
the  enemy  by  surprise,  and  he  won  a  notorious  victory. 

When  he  crossed  the  frontier  as  a  fugitive,  through  re- 
fusing to  recognize  the  Bourbons  as  the  constitutional 
rulers,  "the  rebel  chief  Saldana"  was  twenty-nine  years 
of  age.  A  second  son  in  a  proud  and  ruined  family,  he 
had  been  obliged  to  resist  the  traditions  of  his  house 
which  presented  for  him  an  ecclesiastical  career.  When 
his  studies  at  the  Military  School  at  Toledo  were  just 
finishing,  the  Revolution  of  1868  caused  him  to  renounce 
a  commission  to  escape  being  under  orders  from  certain 

28 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  29 

generals  who  had  participated  in  overthrowing  royalty. 
When  Don  Carlos  took  up  arms,  Saldana  was  one  of  the 
first  to  volunteer  his  services;  and  having  gone  through 
a  military  school,  and  received  a  good  education,  he  at 
once  became  conspicuous  among  the  guerrillas  of  the  so- 
called  Army  of  the  Center,  made  up,  for  the  most  part, 
of  country  squires,  village  clerks,  and  mountain  priests. 

Besides,  Saldana  distinguished  himself  for  a  reckless 
though  rather  unfortunate  bravery.  He  always  led  the 
attack  at  the  head  of  his  men  and  consequently  was 
wounded  in  the  majority  of  his  fights.  But  his  wounds 
were  "lucky  wounds"  as  the  soldiers  say.  They  left 
marks  of  glory  on  his  body  without  destroying  his  vigor- 
ous health. 

Finding  himself  alone  in  Paris,  where  his  only  re- 
source was  the  admiration  of  a  few  elderly  "legitimist" 
ladies  of  the  aristocratic  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  he  left 
for  Vienna.  There  his  king  had  friends  and  relatives. 
His  youth  and  his  exploits  gained  him  admission  as  a  hero 
of  the  old  monarchy  to  the  circle  of  archdukes.  The  war 
between  Russia  and  Turkey  tore  him  away  from  his 
pleasant  life  as  an  interesting  hanger-on.  Being  a  fight- 
ing man  and  a  Catholic,  he  .felt  it  his  duty  to  wage  war 
against  the  Turks ;  and  with  recommendations  as  a  pro- 
tege of  some  influential  Austrians,  he  went  to  the  Court 
at  Saint  Petersburg.  General  Saldana  became  a  mere 
Commander  of  a  Squadron  in  the  Russian  Cavalry.  The 
officers  conversed  with  him  in  French.  His  horsemen 
understood  him  well  enough  when  he  placed  himself  in 
front  of  his  division,  and,  unsheathing  his  sword,  galloped 
ahead  of  them  against  the  enemy. 

Various  successful  charges  and  two  more  "lucky 
wounds"  won  him  a  certain  celebrity.  At  the  end  of  the 
war  he  had  gained  numerous  friends  among  officers  of 
the  nobility,  and  was  presented  in  the  most  aristocratic 


30  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

drawing  rooms.  One  evening  at  a  ball  given  by  a  Grand 
Duchess,  he  saw  close  at  hand  the  most  fashionable  and 
most  talked  of  young  woman  of  the  season :  the  Princess 
Lubimoff. 

She  was  twepty-two,  an  orphan,  with  a  fortune  said  to 
be  one  of  the  largest  in  Russia.  The  first  to  bear  the  title 
of  Prince  Lubimoff,  a  poor  but  handsome  Cossack,  unable 
to  read  or  write,  succeeded  in  winning  the  attention  of 
the  Great  Catherine,  who  made  him  the  favorite  among 
her  lovers  of  second  rank.  During  the  years  that  her  im- 
perial caprice  lasted,  the  new  Prince  was  forced  to  seek 
his  fortune  far  from  the  Court,  since  the  favorites  before 
him  had  gained  possession  of  all  that  was  near  at  hand. 
The  Czarina  allowed  him  to  make  his  selection  on  the 
map  of  her  immense  Empire;  distant  territories  beyond 
the  Urals,  which  the  new  proprietor  was,  like  the  majority 
of  his  successors,  never  to  see.  With  the  introduction 
of  the  railroad,  enormous  riches  came  to  light  in  these 
lands  chosen  by  the  Cossack ;  in  some,  veins  of  platinum 
were  discovered;  in  others,  quarries  of  malachite,  de- 
posits of  lapis  lazuli,  and  rich  oil  wells.  Besides,  tens  of 
thousands  of  serfs,  recently  freed  by  the  Czar,  continued 
to  work  the'land  for  the  Lubimoff  heirs,  just  as  they  had 
before  the  emancipation.  And  all  this  immense  fortune, 
which  nearly  doubled  each  year  with  new  discoveries,  be- 
longed entirely  to  one  woman,  the  young  Princess,  who 
considered  herself  as  one  of  the  Imperial  family  owing  to 
the  relationship  of  her  ancestor,  and  had  more  than  once 
given  the  sovereign  cause  for  worry  through  the  eccentri- 
cities of  her  character. 

She  was  an  aggressive  young  woman,  capricious  and 
inconsistent  in  both  words  and  deeds,  a  puzzle  to  every- 
one through  the  sharp  contradictions  in  her  conduct.  She 
mingled  with  the  officers  of  the  Guard,  treating  them  as 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  31 

comrades,  smoking  and  drinking  with  them  and  taking 
a  hand  in  their  exercises  in  horsemanship ;  and  then  sud- 
denly she  would  shut  herself  up  in  her  palace  for  whole 
weeks,  on  her  knees  most  of  the  time,  before  the  holy 
ikons,  absorbed  in  mystic  fervor,  and  loudly  imploring  the 
forgiveness  of  her  sins.  She  looked  on  the  Emperor  with 
veneration,  as  the  representative  of  God.  At  the  same 
time  she  was  known  to  sympathize  with  the  Nihilists. 

The  courtiers  were  scandalized  whenever  they  told  how 
she  had  accompanied  a  girl,  whom  the  police  were  watch- 
ing to  a  wretched  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the  capital, 
and  had  there  mingled  with  the  revolutionary  rabble  com- 
posed of  workmen  and  students.  With  them  she  had  en- 
tered a  narrow  room,  and  joined  the  line  passing  before 
a  coffin  that  was  constantly  in  danger  of  being  upset  by 
the  pushing  of  the  gloomy  curious  crowd.  The  dead 
man's  name  was  Fedor  Dostoiewsky.  The  princess  had 
scattered  a  bouquet  of  the  most  costly  roses  on  the  pro- 
truding forehead  and  monkish  beard  of  the  novelist. 

And  in  her  moments  of  anger  this  same  Nadina  Lu- 
bimoflf  beat  the  servants  in  her  Palace,  as  though  they 
were  still  serfs,  and  forced  her  maids  to  grovel  at  her 
feet.  Her  irritability  and  fiery  temper  turned  everything 
upside  down,  to  such  an  extent  that  a  certain  elderly 
Prince,  who  by  Imperial  order  had  been  chosen  as  her 
guardian,  desired,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  would  mean 
to  him  loss  of  the  management  of  an  immense  fortune, 
to  see  her  married  as  soon  as  possible. 

Nadina  Lubimoff  inspired  a  feeling  of  dread  in  her 
suitors.  They  were  all  afraid  that  she  would  answer 
their  request  for  her  hand  with  a  cruel  jest  Twice  she 
had  announced  her  engagement  to  gentlemen  of  the 
Court,  and  at  the  last  moment  she  herself  had  begged  the 
Czar  to  refuse  his  consent.     By  this  time  no  one  dared 


32  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

propose,  for  fear  of  laughter  and  comment.  Yet  in  spite 
of  the  freedom  and  unconvcntionality  of  her  conduct,  no 
one  doubted  the  uprightness  of  her  character. 

On  seeing  her,  Saldana  thought  of  a  naiad  of  the 
North,  rising  from  an  emerald  river,  in  which  cakes  of 
ice  were  floating.  She  was  tall  and  majestic,  with  a 
somewhat  massive  figure,  like  the  divinities  painted  in 
frescos  for  ceilings.  Her  skin  was  of  radiant  whiteness. 
The  pupils  of  her  gray  eyes  gave  out  a  greenish  light,  and 
her  silky  hair  was  a  faded  washed-out  red.  Owing  to  the 
marvelous  whiteness  of  her  complexion,  her  flesh  ap- 
peared somewhat  soft,  but  a  fresh  fragrance  emanated 
from  it,  "the  fragrance  of  running  brooks,"  to  use  the 
words  of  her  admirers.  Her  nostrils  were  rather  wide, 
and  in  the  stress  of  emotion  they  quivered,  like  those  of 
a  horse,  thus  recalling  her  glorious  ancestor,  the  virile 
Cossack  of  the  Czarina. 

The  ball  was  nearly  over  before  she  noticed  the  Span- 
iard. There  were  so  many  officers  constantly  at  her 
heels,  greeting  her  cruel  jokes  and  vulgar  expressions 
with  a  smile  of  gratitude ! — Suddenly  Saldana,  who  was 
standing  between  two  doorways,  was  startled  by  a  clear 
but  commanding  female  voice. 

"Your  arm.  Marquis." 

And  before  he  could  offer  it  to  her  the  young  Princess 
took  it,  and  led  him  off  to  the  buffet  in  the  drawing  room. 

Nadina  drank  a  good  sized  glass  of  vodka,  preferring 
this  liquor  of  the  people  to  the  champagne  which  the  ser- 
vants were  pouring  out  in  large  quantities.  Then  smiling 
at  her  companion  she  drew  him  into  the  embrasure  of  a 
window  where  they  were  almost  hidden  by  the  curtains. 

"Your  wounds !  ^   .    .   I  want  to  see  your  wounds !" 

Saldana  was  dtmifounded  at  the  command  of  this  great 
lady  accustomed  to  carrying  out  her  most  whimsical 
ideas.    Blushing  like  a  soldier,  who  had  lived  all  his  life 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  33 

among  men,  he  finally  drew  up  the  left  sleeve  of  his  uni- 
form, revealing  a  brown,  hairy  forearm,  with  large  ten- 
dons, and  deeply  furrowed  by  the  scar  of  a  bullet  wound 
received  back  in  Spain. 

The  Princess  admired  his  athletic  arm,  with  its  dark 
skin,  cut  by  the  jagged  white  of  the  new  tissue. 

"The  other — the  others!  I  want  to  see  the  rest  of 
them !"  she  commanded,  gazing  at  him  fiercely,  as  though 
she  were  ready  to  bite,  while  her  lips,  moist  and  shining, 
curved  sharply  downward. 

She  had  seized  his  arm  with  a  hand  that  trembled, 
while  with  the  other  she  tried  to  undo  the  gold  cords  on 
the  officer's  breast. 

Saldana  drew  back,  stammering.  "Oh I  Princess!" 
What  she  desired  was  impossible.  It  was  impossible  to 
show  the  other  wounds  to  a  lady.  .  .  . 

He  felt  on  the  one  visible  scar  the  contact  of  two  lips. 
Nadina,  bowing  her  proud  head,  was  kissing  his  arm. 

"Hero!  .    .    .  Oh!  my  hero!" 

Immediately  afterward  she  drew  herself  up  again,  cold 
and  distant,  with  no  other  sign  of  emotion  than  a  slight 
quivering  of  her  nostrils.  No  longer  was  she  tormented 
by  the  desire  to  see  immediately  those  frightful  scars  of 
which  she  had  heard  from  some  of  the  comrades  of  the 
brave  adventurer.  She  was  sure  of  being  able  to  see 
them  to  her  heart's  content  whenever  she  pleased. 

In  a  few  days  the  rumor  began  to  circulate  that  the 
Princess  Lubimoff  was  to  be  married  to  the  Spaniard. 
She  herself  had  started  the  news  going,  without  bother- 
ing to  ascertain  beforehand  the  inclination  of  her  future 
husband. 

The  arguments  with  which  she  justified  her  decision 
could  not  have  been  more  weighty.  She  was  blond  and 
Saldana  was  dark.  They  had  both  been  bom  at  outer- 
most limits  of  Europe.    These  considerations  were  suf- 


34  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ficient  to  make  a  happy  marriage.  Besides,  the  Princess 
was  convinced  that  she  had  always  been  fond  of  Spain, 
although  she  would  not  have  been  able  to  place  it  accu- 
rately on  the  map.  She  recalled  certain  verses  of  Heine 
mentioning  Toledo,  and  others  by  Musset  addressing  An- 
dalusian  Marquises  of  Barcelona;  and  she  used  to  himi 
a  love  song  about  the  oranges  of  Seville.  .  .  .  Her  hero 
must  surely  be  from  Toledo,  or,  better  yet,  an  Andalusian 
from  Barcelona. 

In  vain  certain  people  of  the  court  spoke  of  the  Czar's 
not  allowing  the  match.  A  great  heiress  marrying  a  for- 
eign soldier  banished  from  his  country!  .  .  .  But  the 
Princess  by  her  very  conduct,  gave  the  sovereign  to  un- 
derstand her  will. 

"Either  I  marry  him,  or  I  start  out  as  a  dancer  in  a 
Paris  theater." 

It  was  rumored  that  Saldana  was  about  to  be  deported. 

"So  much  the  better:  I  will  go  and  join  him,  and  be 
his  sweetheart." 

The  old  Prince,  her  guardian,  lamented  this  obstinacy 
on  the  part  of  the  Court.  If  it  had  not  been  for  this 
opposition,  Nadina's  caprice  for  Saldana,  like  so  many  of 
her  whims,  would  have  lasted  only  a  few  days.  It  was 
said  that  perhaps  the  Emperor,  in  order  to  break  her  will, 
would  dispossess  her  of  her  vast  estates  in  Siberia.  The 
grandchild  of  the  Cossack  shrieked  in  reply  that  she 
would  kill  herself  rather  than  obey. 

At  last  the  ruler  prudently  allowed  her  to  fulfil  her  de- 
sire. In  getting  married  she  would  give  up  her  eccentri- 
cities perhaps,  and  the  Russian  court,  so  rich  in  scandals, 
would  have  one  less. 

The  wedding  journey  of  the  Princess  Lubimoff  lasted 
all  her  life.  Only  twice,  for  reasons  relating  to  her  great 
fortune,  did  she  return  to  Russia.  Western  Europe  was 
more  favorable  than  the  court  of  an  autocrat  to  her  love 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  35 

of  freedom.  In  the  first  year  of  her  marriage,  while  in 
London,  she  had  a  son,  who  was  to  be  the  only  child.  She 
allowed  him  to  be  called  Michael,  like  his  father,  but  in- 
sisted that  he  should  have  a  second  name,  Fedor,  per- 
haps in  memory  of  Dostoiewsky,  her  favorite  novelist, 
whose  character  inspired  in  her  a  feeling  of  sympathy, 
through  a  certain  resemblance  to  herself. 

No  one  succeeded  in  ascertaining  with  certainty 
whether  or  not  Don  Miguel  Saldana  felt  happy  in  his  new 
position  as  Prince  Consort,  which  permitted  him  to  enjoy 
all  the  pleasure  and  magnificence  of  immense  wealth. 
According  to  Spanish  customs,  he  started  out  to  impose 
his  will  as  a  husband  and  a  man  of  character,  to  curb  the 
eccentricities  of  his  wife.  Vain  determination !  The  very 
woman  who  at  times  could  be  sentimental  and  moan  at 
the  thought  of  social  inequalities  and  the  suffering  of  the 
poor,  could,  by  her  fiery  impetuosity,  reduce  the  stoutest 
and  most  firmly  steeled  will. 

In  the  end  Saldana  relapsed  into  silence,  fearing  the 
aggressiveness  of  the  daughter  of  the  Cossack.  To  keep 
his  prestige  as  a  great  noble,  anxious  for  the  respect  of 
the  servants  and  for  the  consideration  of  his  guests,  he 
feared  violent  scenes  that  filled  the  drawing  rooms  and 
even  the  stairways  of  his  luxurious  residence  with  fem- 
inine shrieks.  He  did  not  care  more  than  once  to  see 
the  Princess  with  one  kick  send  the  oaken  table  flying 
against  the  dining  room  wall,  while  all  the  porcelain  and 
crystal  service  smashed  into  bits  with  one  catastrophic 
crash. 

When  the  Paris  architects  had  carried  out  the  orders 
of  the  Princess,  the  family  left  the  castle  they  were  oc- 
cupying in  the  vicinity  of  London.  A  group  of  rich  Paris- 
ians, Jewish  bankers  for  the  most  part,  were  covering 
the  level  grounds  around  the  new  Park  Mongeau,  with 
large  private  dwellings.    The  Princess  Lubimoff  had  an 


36  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

enormous  palace,  with  a  garden  of  extraordinary  size  for 
a  city,  built  in  this  quarter.  She  even  set  up  a  tiny  dairy 
behind  a  grove  of  trees,  and  without  leaving  her  place 
she  could  enjoy  the  role  of  a  country  woman,  whipping 
cream  and  churning  butter,  in  imitation  of  Marie  Antoin- 
ette, who  likewise  played  at  being  a  shepherdess  in  the 
Petit  Trianon. 

At  times  a  wave  of  tenderness  swept  over  her,  and  she 
adored  and  obeyed  her  husband,  pushing  her  humility  to 
extremes  that  were  alarming.  She  told  her  visitors  about 
the  General's  campaigns,  and  his  daring  exploits  back  in 
Spain,  a  land  which  inspired  in  her  a  romantic  interest, 
and  which  for  that  very  reason  she  did  not  care  ever  to 
see.  Suddenly  she  would  cut  her  eulogies  short  with 
a  command : 

"Marquis,  show  them  your  wounds." 

As  proof  of  her  tenderness,  she  refrained  from  getting 
angry  when  her  husband  refused. 

She  always  called  him  "Marquis,"  perhaps  in  order  to 
keep  the  princely  title  for  herself  alone,  perhaps  because 
she  felt  that  he  should  not  be  deprived  of  a  rank  he  had 
gained  with  his  blood.  The  Marquis  never  paid  any  at- 
tention to  this  breach  of  etiquette.  His  wife  had  already 
committed  so  many ! 

A  year  after  their  marriage,  when  the  news  reached 
London  that  Alexander  H  had  been  killed  by  the  explos- 
ion of  a  Nihilist  bomb,  the  Princess  ran  about  her  apart- 
ments like  a  mad  woman,  and  took  to  her  bed  after  an 
extraordinary  fit  of  anger. 

"The  wretches !  He  was  so  good !  .  .  They've  killed 
their  own  father." 

And  thereafter  when  Saldana  entered  the  luxurious 
dwelling  in  Paris,  he  often  came  across  strange  visitors, 
at  whom  the  lackeys  in  breeches  stared  in  amazement. 
They  were  uncouth  girls  with  spectacles,  and  cropped 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  37 

hair,  carrying  portfolios  under  their  arms ;  men  with  long 
hair  and  tangled  beards,  whose  eyes  contained  the  startled 
expression  of  visionaries ;  Russians  from  the  Latin  Quar- 
ter under  police  surveillance,  terrorists,  who  appealed  not 
in  vain  to  the  generosity  of  the  Princess,  and  used  her 
money  perhaps  to  make  infernal  machines  which  they 
sent  back  to  their  country  and  hers. 

When  the  Prince  Michael  Fedor  recalled  his  childhood 
memories,  he  could  see  his  father  holding  him  on  his 
knees  and  caressing  him  with  his  firm  hands.  The  child 
would  gaze  up  at  the  dark  face  and  large  mustache  that 
joined  Saldana's  closely  cropped  mutton  chop  whiskers. 
He  could  not  be  sure  whether  the  moisture  in  those  black, 
commanding  eyes  came  from  tears ;  but  after  he  learned 
Spanish  he  was  sure  that  the  Marquis  had  often  mur- 
mured, as  he  smoothed  the  tiny  brow : 

"My  poor  little  boy !   .    .    .  Your  mother  is  mad !" 

When  Michael  reached  the  age  of  eight,  the  problem 
of  his  education  caused  the  Princess  to  show  her  motherly 
concern  for  a  few  weeks.  One  of  those  visitors,  who  so 
greatly  worried  the  servants,  brought  his  books  and  his 
frayed  garments  from  a  narrow  street  near  the  Pantheon, 
and  took  up  his  abode  in  the  lordly  dwelling  of  the  Lubi- 
mofFs.  He  was  a  silent  young  man,  given  to  the  study 
of  chemistry,  and  forbidden  to  return  to  his  country. 
The  very  day  of  his  arrival,  a  secret  service  agent  came 
and  questioned  the  porter  of  the  palace. 

"I  want  my  son  to  know  Russian,"  said  the  Princess. 
"Besides,  he  will  learn  a  great  deal  from  Sergueff.  Ser- 
gueff  is  a  real  man  of  learning,  and  worthy  of  a  better 
fate." 

Saldana  insisted  that  he  should  likewise  have  a  Spanish 
teacher,  and  she  raised  no  objections.  All  the  members 
of  her  family  had  possessed  to  an  unusual  degree  the  tal- 
ent of  the  Slavs  for  learning  languages  easily. 


38  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Prince  Michael  Fedor,"  said  his  mother,  "is  the  Mar- 
quis of  Villablanca,  and  ought  to  know  the  language  of 
his  second  country." 

On  this  account  the  General  once  again  sought  out  his 
former  companions  in  arms  who  were  still  scattered  in 
various  parts  of  Paris.  The  fame  of  his  enormous  wealth 
had  brought  him  many  requests,  even  from  persons  of 
whom  he  had  formerly  stood  in  awe.  But  although  the 
Princess,  who  was  generous  to  a  fault,  allowed  him  the 
management  of  her  fortune,  Saldana,  with  chivalrous  un- 
yielding integrity,  felt  that  he  had  no  right  to  her  money, 
and  gradually  came  to  avoid  the  insistent  suppliants.  Be- 
sides, a  great  change  had  come  over  this  silent  man  dur- 
ing his  travels  through  Europe.  The  former  soldier  of 
the  absolute  monarchy  was  now  an  admirer  of  England 
and  her  constitutional  history. 

"You  see  things  differently  when  you  travel  about," 
was  all  he  said.  "If  all  my  fellow  countrymen  had  only 
seen  the  world." 

One  day  the  new  teacher  presented  himself  at  the 
palace.  He  was  twelve  years  younger  than  Saldana.  He 
had  been  under  the  latter's  command  toward  the  end  of 
the  war,  and  instead  of  calling  him  by  his  title  of  Mar- 
quis or  Prince  he  addressed  him  proudly,  at  every  oppor- 
tunity, as  "my  General." 

The  General  had  not  the  slightest  recollection  of  him ; 
but  the  fact  that  he  could  give  exact  details  of  the  last 
campaign,  and  had  been  recommended  by  various  friends, 
did  not  permit  of  any  doubt  as  to  his  veracity.  He  must 
have  been  one  of  those  lads  who  had  run  away  from  home 
and  joined  the  Carlist  bands,  making  up  those  forces  of 
irregulars  whom  Saldana,  unable  to  tolerate  their  fre- 
quent atrocities,  more  than  once  threatened  with  execu- 
tion en  masse.  The  teacher  claimed  that  the  General 
I  himself  had  given  him  a  subordinate's  commission  in  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  39 

last  months  of  the  war,  owing  to  his  having  a  better  edu- 
cation than  his  ragged  comrades. 

Thus  Marcos  Toledo  entered  the  palace  of  the  Lubi- 
moffs. 

The  solemn  husband  of  the  Princess  laughed  with  boy- 
ish glee  upon  hearing  the  story  of  Toledo's  first  experi- 
ences as  an  emigre  in  Paris. 

During  the  first  few  months,  since  he  did  not  know 
French,  he  used  to  stop  the  priests  in  the  street,  to  talk 
with  them  in  Latin.  He  eked  out  a  miserable  existence, 
giving  lessons  on  the  guitar,  and  lecturing  in  a  Polyglot 
Institute,  where  the  auditors  did  not  pay  the  slightest  at- 
tention to  the  subjects  discussed,  but  tried  simply  to  ac- 
custom their  ears  to  his  Spanish  pronunciation. 

Seven  francs  and  a  half,  for  talking  an  hour  and  a 
half !  But  Toledo  made  up  for  the  smallness  of  the  com- 
pensation in  the  pleasure  it  gave  him  to  orate  about  the 
happy  days  of  Philip  II,  so  much  superior  to  "these  days 
of  liberalism." 

"At  present,  I  have  only  one  ambition,  General,"  he 
ended  by  saying,  "and  that  is  to  dress  well." 

The  passion  for  luxurious  display  came  from  his  youth- 
ful days  as  a  guerrilla,  when  he  would  steal  red  and  yel- 
low petticoats  from  peasant  women  in  order  to  make 
uniforms  for  himself.  In  Paris,  he  did  not  feel  so  keenly 
the  lack  of  nutritious  food,  as  he  did  the  fact  that  he  was 
obliged  to  wear  clothes  that  did  not  belong  to  any  known 
fashion. 

When  he  was  given  quarters  on  the  top  floor  of  the 
palace,  like  the  Russian  teacher,  and  the  General  had 
selected  various  garments  for  him  from  his  large  ward- 
robe, Toledo  felt  he  had  realized  all  the  dreams  that  he 
had  elaborated  while  running  about  Paris  as  a  persistent 
agent  for  a  thousand  unsaleable  things. 

His  fellow  countrymen,  former  comrades  in  poverty, 


40  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

admired  him  on  seeing  him  all  dressed  up  like  a  rich  man, 
and  often  riding  in  the  carriage  of  a  Prince.  It  scarcely 
seemed  honorable  that  he,  a  former  fighter,  should  occupy 
a  position  as  a  teacher,  and  he  used  to  say  in  an  apolo- 
getic manner: 

"I  am  now  General  Saldana's  aide-de-camp.  I  don't 
think  it  will  be  long  before  we  take  to  the  mountains 
again." 

Young  Prince  Michael  admired  his  Russian  teacher,  be- 
cause his  mother  affirmed  that  he  was  a  great  scholar. 
The  boy  felt  a  certain  fear  in  the  presence  of  this  melan- 
choly sage.  On  the  other  hand,  Michael  Fedor  treated 
the  Spaniard  with  an  air  of  friendly  and  patronizing 
superiority.  Toledo  made  his  father  laugh,  and  that  was 
enough  to  cause  the  son  to  consider  him  an  inferior  being, 
but  one  worthy  of  esteem  nevertheless,  because  of  his 
docility  and  patience. 

"Say:  is  it  true  that  you  were  going  to  be  a  priest?" 
Michael  Fedor  used  to  ask  Toledo.  "Is  it  true  that  after 
you  left  the  seminary  you  were  a  druggist's  clerk  ?" 

"Prince,"  the  teacher  replied  with  dignity,  "I  am  Don 
Marcos  de  Toledo.  My  name  tells  my  nobility,  in  spite 
of  everything  that  envious  people  may  say,  and  I  have  a 
right  to  use  the  'Don'  since  I  am  an  officer  and  your 
father,  the  Marquis,  g^vc  me  my  commission." 

In  a  short  time  the  pupil  was  speaking  Spanish  correct- 
ly. It  seemed  that  he  had  learned  it  as  rapidly  as  possible 
in  order  to  be  better  able  to  poke  fun  at  his  hidalgo 
teacher. 

The  father  also  contributed  to  the  education  of  the  heir 
of  the  Lubimoffs  the  one  ihing  he  was  able  to  teach. 
Every  morning,  after  the  lessons  given  by  the  Russian, 
which  left  the  little  fellow  with  a  solemn  face,  Saldana 
would  wait  for  him  in  a  large  rocwn  on  the  ground  floor. 

"Prince,  on  guard!" 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  41 

And  he,  who  had  been  the  best  blade  in  the  Carlist 
army,  and  had  on  his  conscience  the  slashing  of  a  skull  to 
the  jawbone  in  a  duel  during  the  Turkish  campaign,, 
smiled  proudly  when  he  saw  how  this  eleven  year  old  boy 
stood  his  ground  during  the  fencing  lesson,  parrying  the 
hard  blows  and  returning  them  successfully  at  the  least 
unguardedness  on  his  father's  part.  Michael  Fedor  was 
going  to  be  a  splendid  fighting  man,  a  worthy  descend- 
ant of  the  Cossack  of  Russia,  and  of  the  guerrilla  of  the 
Spanish  mountains. 

But  Saldana  was  not  to  enjoy  this  satisfaction  for  long. 
Among  his  various  "lucky  wounds,"  which  only  bothered 
him  slightly  with  the  changing  of  the  seasons,  there  was 
one  which  from  time  to  time  inflicted  periods  of  acute 
pain.  For  many  years  he  had  carried  in  his  body  a  Span- 
ish bullet  which  the  sawbones  of  his  guerrilla  band  had 
been  unable  to  extract.  When  the  surgeons  of  London 
and  Paris  attempted  the  operation  it  was  too  late. 

One  morning  the  General's  valet,  on  entering  the  room, 
found  him  dead. 

Michael  Fedor  never  forgot  the  sorrow  he  had  felt  on 
that  occasion,  nor  the  sumptuous  funeral  which  the  Prin- 
cess had  ordered,  equal  to  that  of  a  king  deceased  in 
exile.  But  what  he  remembered  most  clearly  was  the 
extraordinary  grief  of  his  mother.  She  too  wanted  to 
die.  Her  Russian  maids  were  once  obliged  to  snatch 
from  her  hands  a  phial  of  laudanum,  receiving  for  their 
pains  a  few  more  blows  than  usual.  Then,  with  her  hair 
streaming  down  her  back,  she  ran  about  wailing  like  a 
madwoman  in  front  of  all  the  portraits  of  the  General. 
Oh!  Her  hero!  Now  she  really  knew  how  much  she 
loved  him.  .    .    . 

For  several  months  she  received  her  visitors  in  a  draw- 
ing room  with  black  furnishings  and  curtains.  Wearing 
loose  mourning  garments,  she  half  reclined  on  a  sofa  in 


42  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

front  of  a  full  length  portrait  of  Saldana.  His  swords, 
his  uniforms,  and  even  a  Russian  saddle  were  on  exhi- 
bition in  the  drawing  room,  which  had  been  converted 
into  a  sort  of  museum  of  the  deceased. 

"He  died  like  the  man  he  was!"  moaned  the  widow. 
"He  was  killed  by  his  wounds." 

At  this  period  began  the  ultimate  stage  in  the  rise  of 
Don  Marcos  Toledo.  The  Russian  scholar  receded  into 
the  background.  A  part  of  the  dead  man's  glory  passed 
to  his  humble  fellow  countryman  who  had  witnessed  his 
great  exploits.  One  evening,  the  Princess,  while  engaged 
in  conversation  in  the  drawing  room  museum  with  some 
noble  relatives  who  had  arrived  from  Russia,  wept  so 
copiously  at  the  memory  of  her  husband,  that  she  decided 
to  leave  the  room  for  a  moment. 

"Colonel,  your  arm." 

Toledo  was  present  in  company  with  his  pupil,  and 
looked  around  with  an  expression  of  bewilderment.  The 
Princess  had  to  repeat  her  command  in  a  more  imperious 
voice.  "Colonel,  your  arm!"  She  was  speaking  to  him! 
For  some  time  Don  Marcos  thought  that  the  new  title  was 
a  whim  of  the  Princess  and  that  some  day  when  he  was 
least  expecting  it  his  commission  as  "Colonel"  would  be 
withdrawn. 

But  when  the  first  months  of  mourning  had  passed  and 
the  widow,  tiring  of  solitude,  started  to  resume  her  social 
calls,  she  insisted  on  being  accompanied  by  Toledo,  and 
on  introducing  him  to  her  acquaintances  in  the  aristo- 
cratic world. 

"He  is  the  aide-de-camp  of  the  dead  Marquis,"  she  ex- 
plained. 

The  very  title  he  had  invented  to  give  himself  an  air 
of  importance  in  the  eyes  of  his  half-starved  companions 
in  poverty  I    Toledo  no  longer  questioned  the  validity  of 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  43 

his  promotion.  Now  that  the  Princess  was  presenting 
him  as  her  husband's  aide-de-camp,  he  might  well  be  a 
Colonel.  And  a  Colonel  he  was,  even  for  the  young 
Prince,  who  at  first  had  gfiven  him  the  title  to  make  fun  of 
him,  but  finally  came  to  call  him  "Colonel"  by  force  of 
habit. 

Toledo's  dreams  of  splendid  and  showy  toggery  were 
now  realized  magnificently.  With  the  Princess  he  did 
not  need  to  fear  the  scruples  sometimes  shown  by  Sal- 
dana,  who  hated  extravagance  and  mismanagement.  The 
great  lady  even  felt  disdain  for  those  who  were  niggardly 
in  availing  themselves  of  her  generosity.  Don  Marcos 
was  enabled  to  change  his  attire  several  times  a  day,  and 
held  long  conferences  with  famous  tailors.  He  sought 
personal  elegance.  He  wished  to  dress  like  a  gentleman 
of  distinction,  but  at  the  same  time  to  wear  clothes  of  a 
cut  that  would  plainly  show  that  he  was  accustomed  to 
uniforms :  He  had  in  mind  something  like  a  Napoleonic 
Marshal  obliged  to  wear  a  dress  suit.  Through  his  bar- 
ber, likewise,  he  effected  a  great  transformation.  He 
imitated  the  manner  in  which  the  General  had  worn  his 
hair,  with  a  part  that  started  at  his  forehead  and  ended 
at  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  with  stray  locks  hanging 
down  at  the  temples.  His  mustache  was  taught  to  mingle 
with  his  side  whiskers,  in  the  Russian  fashion.  In  accom- 
panying the  Princess,  he  learned  to  kiss  ladies'  hands  with 
the  grace  and  ease  of  an  old  courtier.  He  also  learned  to 
carry  on  long  conversations  without  saying  anything,  to 
keep  himself  in  the  background,  practically  unseen,  while 
his  superiors  were  talking. 

When  the  Princess,  after  the  first  year  of  mourning, 
resolutely  returned  to  her  box  at  the  Opera,  Don  Marcos 
attended  her,  remaining  discreetly  in  the  rear,  like  the 
Chamberlain  of  a  Queen.    One  evening,  during  an  inter- 


44  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

mission,  on  passing  to  the  front  of  her  box,  the  Princess 
heard  the  Colcniel  telling  an  old  French  general,  a  friend 
of  the  house,  about  the  battle  of  Villablanca. 

"And  the  Marquis  said  to  me :  *Now  it's  your  chance, 
Toledo :  Let's  see  how  you  can  make  out  with  a  bayonet 
charge.'  So  I  bared  my  sword,  and  at  the  head  of  my 
regiment.  .   .   ,*' 

"He's  a  true  soldier,"  interrupted  the  Princess,  "a. 
worthy  companion  of  my  hero.  .  .  .  The  Marquis  often 
talked  to  me  about  him." 

And  at  that  moment  she  was  really  sure  she  had  heard 
the  silent  Saldana  relate  the  gallant  deeds  of  his  aide-de- 
camp. 

The  Russian  teacher,  regarded  by  Toledo  as  an  un- 
pleasant person  who  would  bear  watching,  soon  left  the 
Lubimoff  palace.  Perhaps  he  was  jealous  of  the 
Colonel's  growing  influence;  perhaps  mysterious  reasons 
needed  his  attention  far  from  Paris.  The  Princess  did 
not  mind  in  the  least  the  disappearance  of  the  scholar. 
She  had  forgotten  her  rebellious  looking  Russians;  she 
stopped  giving  them  money.  At  present  she  had  other 
interests. 

She  suddenly  evinced  a  desire  to  live  for  some  time  in 
London,  and  for  this  reason,  she  granted  her  son's  request 
to  be  allowed  to  travel  alone  throughout  Europe. 

"You're  a  man  now;  you  will  soon  be  fourteen.  Tra- 
vel, and  don't  stop  at  expense ;  always  remember  that  you 
are  Prince  Lubimoff.  .  .  .  The  Colonel  will  go  with 
you.  He  will  be  your  aide,  as  he  was  for  the  heroic 
Marquis." 

His  first  trip  was  to  Spain.  Michael  Fedor  wanted  to 
see  his  father's  native  land.  Toledo  thought  it  in  point 
for  the  young  Prince  to  show  great  admiration  for  Spain. 
Michael  must  remember  they  werq  in  the  enemy's  coun- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  45 

try.  Toledo  was  a  Carlist  Colonel  who  had  refused  am- 
nesty, and  had  declined  to  recognize  the  reigning  dynasty ! 
But  they  traveled  for  three  months  in  Spain,  without  be- 
ing noticed  except  for  the  largeness  of  their  tips.  It  is 
quite  true  that  Toledo  avoided  coming  in  contact  with  any 
of  his  former  comrades.  He  felt  that  he  now  belonged  to 
a  different  world.  Inwardly  he  felt  the  same  change  the 
General  had. 

As  soon  as  Michael  Fedor  had  recovered  from  his  first 
enthusiasm  for  bull  fighting,  they  continued  their  travels 
across  the  continent  as  far  as  Russia,  arriving  consider- 
ably later  than  the  numerous  letters  of  introduction  sent 
by  the  Princess  Lubimoff  to  her  relatives.  The  Prince 
remained  there  a  year,  visiting  his  less  distant  estates, 
and  making  the  acquaintance  of  all  the  great  families  in 
his  mother's  circle  of  friends.  The  Colonel  talked  grand- 
iloquently about  everything  related  to  war  with  various 
generals  who  received  him  as  an  equal.  Was  he  not  the 
aide  and  companion  in  heroic  deeds  of  Saldana,  whom 
they  had  known  in  the  war  against  Turkey,  when  they 
were  mere  subalterns? 

The  former  friends  of  the  Princess  Lubimoff  told  her 
son  some  unexpected  news.  His  mother  had  announced 
her  forthcoming  marriage  to  an  English  gentleman.  She 
had  written  to  the  Czar  asking  his  authorization.  This 
news  startled  no  one  save  Michael  Fedor.  The  times  of 
the  wild  Nadina  had  long  since  passed.  Her  actions 
aroused  no  further  interest.  Other  young  Princesses  had 
effaced  her  memory  with  adventures  that  caused  even 
greater  commotion.  No  one  save  a  few  of  the  ladies  of 
the  old  court,  when  they  forgot  their  cares  and  interests 
as  mothers,  would  bring  to  mind  the  Princess  Lubimoff, 
recalling  days  of  vanished  youth,  which  for  old  people  are 
always  more  interesting  than  the  present 


46  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

When  the  young  man  returned  to  the  Paris  palace,  he 
found  his  mother  as  much  of  a  Princess  as  ever,  but  mar- 
ried to  a  Scotch  gentleman,  Sir  Edwin  Macdonald. 

"Some  day  you  will  leave  me,"  she  said  with  a  tragic 
note  in  her  voice  she  used  on  great  occasions.  "A  Prince 
Lubimoff  should  live  at  the  court,  serve  his  Emperor,  be 
an  officer  in  the  Guard;  and  I  need  a  companion,  some 
one  to  lean  on.  Sir  Edwin  is  the  personification  of  dis- 
tinction; but  don't  ever  think  that  I  shall  forget  your 
father.    Never!  .    .    .  My  hero!" 

Michael  Fedor  saw  a  gentleman  who,  indeed,  was  "the 
personification  of  distinction" ;  attentive  to  everyone,  very 
precise  in  his  bearing,  a  man  of  few  words,  who  shut  him- 
self up  for  long  hours — studying,  according  to  the  Prin- 
cess. English  politics  was  his  preoccupation,  and  his  one 
great  dream  was  to  return  to  Parliament,  which  he  had 
been  forced  to  leave  by  defeat  at  election. 

This  cold  man,  with  a  pale  smile  and  extreme  insis- 
tence on  good  form  even  in  the  most  trivial  actions,  nei- 
ther displeased  Michael  as  a  step-father  nor  appealed  to 
him  as  a  friend.  He  was  an  inoffensive,  somewhat  stuffy 
person,  whom  Michael  grew  accustomed  to  seeing  every 
day  in  his  father's  former  place,  and  whom  he  had  ex- 
pected to  see  sooner  or  later  anyhow. 

This  marriage  brought  other  people  to  the  Lubimoff 
palace,  with  all  the  intimacy  inspired  by  relationship. 

One  of  Sir  Edwin's  brothers  had  been  obliged,  like  all 
the  second  sons  in  wealthy  British  families,  to  go  out  in 
the  world  and  earn  his  living.  After  a  life  of  adven- 
ture, he  had  finally  settled  down  in  the  United  States, 
near  the  Mexican  border,  and  had  soon  found  himself, 
through  a  marriage  with  an  heiress  of  the  country,  much 
richer  than  his  elder  brother. 

His  wife  was  a  Mexican.  She  owned  famous  silver 
mines  in  the  interior  and  vast  ranches  on  the  border.    She 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  47 

had  only  one  daughter ;  and  the  latter  was  in  her  eighth 
year  when  Arthur  Macdonald  died  as  a  result  of  a  fall 
from  his  horse.  The  widow,  with  her  little  Alicia,  moved 
to  Europe.  She  wanted  to  live  in  London,  to  be  near  her 
brother-in-law,  Sir  Edwin,  then  a  member  of  Parliament, 
and  much  admired  by  the  Mexican  woman  as  one  of  the 
directors  of  the  world's  affairs.  Later  she  established 
herself  in  Paris,  as  the  capital  most  to  her  taste,  and  as 
the  place  where  she  could  meet  many  people  from 
Mexico. 

The  Princess  Lubimoff  treated  her  relative  well,  al- 
though her  friendship  suffered  sudden  changes,  often  go- 
ing from  extreme  affection  to  sudden  coldness. 

She  and  Dona  Mercedes  could  talk  about  mines  and 
vast  estates,  although  neither  of  them  had  any  accurate 
knowledge  of  their  respective  fortunes.  They  estimated 
their  wealth  only  by  the  enormous  quantities  of  money — 
millions  of  francs  a  year — which  their  distant  business 
agents  sent  them,  and  which  they  spent  without  knowing 
just  how.  There  was  another  thing  which  attracted  the 
Princess,  in  her  moments  of  good  will,  to  Dona  Merce- 
des :  she  herself  was  blond,  while  the  Spanish  Creole  still 
kept  traces  of  Hispanic-Aztec  beauty,  with  a  dark,  some- 
what olive  complexion,  large,  wide-open,  almond  eyes, 
and  hair  astonishing  for  its  blackness,  brilliancy,  and 
length. 

But  an  instinctive  rivalry  frequently  embittered  the  re- 
lations of  the  two  multi-millionaires.  The  Princess  was 
sure  that  her  own  wealth  was  far  the  greater.  When 
Dofia  Mercedes  talked  about  Mexican  silver,  she  men- 
tioned Russian  platinum!  "What  is  silver  worth  com- 
pared to  platinum !"  And  in  order  completely  to  floor  her 
opponent,  the  Princess  would  bring  out  her  family  his- 
tory. Beginning  with  the  remote  Cossack  ancestor,  who 
almost  became  the  legitimate  husband  of  Catherine  the 


48  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Great,  she  paraded  before  her  Mexican  rival  generals, 
marshals  of  the  Emperor's  household,  hetmans,  followed 
by  their  retinues  of  half  savage  horsemen,  princes  and 
ambassadors.  Sir  Edwin's  wife  talked  as  though  she  be- 
longed to  the  reigning  house,  letting  it  be  understood  that 
her  famous  ancestor  had  played  a  part  in  the  establishing 
of  one  of  the  Czars.  For  this  reason  she  had  always  been 
shown  special  consideration  at  court, 

Doiia  Mercedes,  inwardly  jealous  of  so  much  greatness, 
nevertheless  smiled  a  sweet  enigmatic  smile,  as  though 
she  were  to  say,  "That  is  all  very  far  awajr — and  perhaps 
a  lie." 

Then  immediately  she  would  begin  talking  in  her  rapid 
whimsical  French,  a  French  which  she  had  never  been 
able  to  free  from  numerous  Spanish  locutions  that  still 
clung  tenaciously. 

"Mama  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Eugenie.  ,  ,  Don't 
you  know  who  Eugenie  is?  The  Empress,  the  wife  of 
Napoleon  III.  When  Madame  Barrios — that  was  my 
mother's  name — was  announced  at  the  Tuileries,  the 
doors  were  opened  wide.  Papa  was  one  of  the  men  who 
made  Maximilian  emperor." 

Over  against  the  aristocratic  grandeur  of  the  Saint  Pe- 
tersburg court  she  set  the  image  of  the  Mexican  court,  of 
the  brief  Empire  which  had  ended  in  the  execution  of  the 
Archduke  Maximilian,  and  the  madness  of  his  bride,  Car- 
lotta.  The  Emperor  endeavored  to  establish  the  musty 
old  etiquette  of  the  Austrian  Court,  but  the  Mexican  ma- 
trons, when  they  called  on  the  young  Empress,  said  in  the 
frank  maternal  fashion  of  the  colonics :  "How  is  every- 
thing, Carlotta?  .  .  .  How  do  you  like  the  country,  my 
dear?" 

Moved  by  a  similar  frankness,  Dona  Mercedes  would 
end  her  discourse  by  sayings  carelescly : 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  49 

"Papa,  seeing  that  the  Empire  was  going  badly,  recog- 
nized Juarez  as  the  head  of  the  government,  and  joined 
the  side  of  the  Republic.    He  did  it  to  save  our  mines." 

Then  she  would  talk  on  for  a  long  time  about  the  Bar- 
rios, who,  according  to  her,  were  descendants  of  the  most 
ancient  aristocracy  of  Spain.  All  the  nobles  of  Madrid 
were  therefore  relatives  of  hers.  Everybody  knew  thatl 
As  a  child  she  had  seen  at  home  a  lot  of  papers  which 
proved  her  right  to  the  title  of  Marchioness ;  but  owing  to 
the  revolutions  in  her  country,  and  her  travels,  she  no 
longer  knew  where  to  find  them. 

If  the  Princess  referred  to  the  splendor  of  her  palace, 
the  Creole  would  immediately  mention  her  elegant  private 
mansion  in  the  Champs  Elysees.  The  arrival  of  Colonel 
Toledo,  as  a  valorous  adornment  giving  the  princely  resi- 
dence military  prestige,  did  not  intimidate  Doiia  Mer- 
cedes. She  too  had  a  Spaniard,  an  Aragonese  cleric,  who 
acted  as  a  sort  of  royal  private  chaplain,  and  whom  she 
considered  a  man  of  science,  because,  bored  by  his  sine- 
cure in  her  employ,  he  had  taken  up  elementary  astron- 
omy, and  had  set  up  a  telescope  on  the  roof  of  her  house. 

Whenever  the  Mexican  lady  dared  to  imitate  her  enter- 
tainments, her  carriages  or  her  clothes,  the  Princess  Lubi- 
moff  would  audibly  lament  the  fact  that  Paris  was  not 
in  Russia,  where  she  might  call  on  the  chief  of  police  to 
force  this  low-bred  Creole  to  show  the  respect  due  to  her 
superiors.  But  after  these  bursts  of  anger  she  would  feel 
a  sudden  wave  of  tenderness  for  Dofia  Mercedes.  "In 
spite  of  your  illiteracy,"  she  would  say,  "you  are  a  wo- 
man of  natural  talent  and  the  only  one  with  whom  I  can 
talk  for  an  hour  at  a  stretch." 

Between  these  two  declining  beauties,  who  had  seen 
themselves  the  center  of  attraction  and  adoration  in  form- 
er years,  there  was  a  common  bond,  something  which 


50  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

moved  them  both  like  far  off  lovely  music,  like  the  cher- 
ished memory  of  youth :  It  was  the  daughter  of  Dofla 
Mercedes,  the  vivacious  Alicia  Macdonald. 

Dona  Mercedes  seemed  to  see  her  own  beauty,  re- 
newed with  fresh  vigor,  in  her  child.  But  in  this  she  was 
mistaken.  Alicia  added  to  her  dark  southern  splendor 
the  slendemess  and  slightly  boyish  freedom  of  movement 
of  her  father's  race.  The  Princess,  observing  the  girl's 
independent  character,  thought  she  saw  herself  back  once 
more  in  the  days  when  she  was  beginning  to  shock  the 
Imperial  Court.  This  too  was  a  mistake.  She  herself 
had  been  able  to  follow  all  her  most  wilful  impulses, 
without  fear  of  gossip.  She  possessed  everything.  Be- 
sides her  immense  wealth,  she  had  the  advantages  of 
birth,  enabling  her  to  elevate  any  man  whatsoever  to  her 
own  level,  no  matter  how  far  beneath  her  he  might  be. 
Alicia  had  one  ambition ;  to  unite  her  fortune  with  a  great 
title  of  the  old  aristocracy  in  order  to  be  presented  at 
court.  Since  her  fifteenth  year  this  desire  had  been  fixed, 
calculating  design,  dissimulated  under  apparent  reckless- 
ness. From  her  fairy-story  days,  her  mother  had  talked 
to  her  about  wonderful  marriages,  and  of  princes  who  in 
former  times  used  to  marry  shepherdesses,  but  who  were 
in  search  nowadays  of  millionaires'  daughters. 

Michael  Fedor  felt  somewhat  embarrassed  at  meeting 
this  girl  in  his  palace.  She  looked  at  him  so  boldly,  with 
such  a  dominating  expression,  as  though  everything  and 
everyone  should  bow  before  her ! 

She  had  beauty  of  a  type  more  fascinating  than  con- 
ventional. Her  complexion,  slightly  tinged  with  a  strange 
golden  orange  color,  her  large  eyes  a  trifle  slanting,  her 
luxuriant  hair,  which,  fleeing  its  bondage  of  hairpins, 
seemed  alive  and  coiling  like  a  cluster  of  snakes,  gave  her 
an  exotic  charm.    The  rest  of  her  body  revealed  a  modem 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  51 

physical  education.  Her  limbs  were  firm  and  agile  from 
continued  exercise  and  play. 

Dofia  Mercedes  seemed  to  urge  Alicia  and  Michael  to- 
ward each  other  from  the  first  meeting. 

"Don't  stand  on  formality,"  she  said  in  a  motherly  way. 
"You  are  cousins." 

Although  Michael  didn't  succeed  in  making  out  this  re- 
lationship, he  endeavored  to  treat  the  young  girl  in  a 
friendly  manner,  while  the  Creole  mother  smiled  as  she 
already  pictured  Alicia  with  the  coronet  of  a  princess, 
bowing  before  the  Czar.  Princess  Lubimoff  was  in  one 
of  her  kindly  moods ;  for  the  moment  she  did  not  believe 
in  caste  and  privileges,  to  the  extent  that  she  would  again 
have  given  money  to  the  long-haired  individuals  who  used 
to  visit  her.  She  accepted  her  friend's  ambitious  pro- 
jects tolerantly  and  without  comment. 

The  Prince,  meanwhile,  was  telling  the  Colonel  his  im- 
pressions. 

"Too  much  of  a  young  lady !    I  like  the  others  better." 

Don  Marcos,  having  been  Michael's  companion  in  wide 
and  joyous  travels,  knew  whom  the  boy  meant  by  "the 
others";  for  Prince  Lubimoff  had  begun  very  young  to 
nibble  at  the  grapes  of  life. 

On  other  occasions  it  irritated  him  that,  with  her  un- 
abashed demeanor  of  a  foolish  virgin,  she  should  seem 
so  much  like  "the  others." 

"She's  worse  than  a  boy.  If  you  only  knew.  Colonel, 
the  things  she  says  to  me !" 

As  for  Alicia  she  was  not  wholly  satisfied  with  the 
young  Prince.  She  was  accustomed  to  seeing  other  men 
make  an  effort  to  be  gracious  and  show  her  flattering  at- 
tentions, while  Michael  manifested  a  haughty  character, 
like  her  own,  arguing  with  her,  and  even  daring  to  con- 
tradict her. 


52  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Occasionally,  accompanied  by  Toledo,  they  went  out  to- 
gether for  a  gallop  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  All  this  was 
torture  for  Don  Marcos,  who  had  been  a  mountain  war- 
rior! But  his  present  position  called  for  certain  duties. 
So  he  rode  along  as  well  as  could  be  expected  from  a  col- 
onel of  infantry. 

Alicia  was  a  tireless  rider.  At  the  residence  in  the 
Champs-Ely  sees,  Dona  Mercedes  had  frequently  been 
obliged  to  look  for  her  in  the  stables,  where  she  made 
herself  at  home  among  the  hostlers  and  coachmen,  and 
talked  with  professional  authority  as  she  supervised  the 
grooming  of  the  horses.  Afterwards,  when  she  came 
back  into  the  drawing  room  her  hair  would  have  a  decid- 
edly horsey  odor.  Back  in  her  native  land  she  had 
mounted  a  horse  and  clung  to  it  before  she  knew  how  to 
walk.  In  Paris  she  boldly  made  her  way  among  the  ve- 
hicles, knocked  down  the  passersby  occasionally,  and 
often  found  her  mad  gallops  intercepted  by  the  police. 

The  Colonel  endeavored  to  keep  up  with  hen  He 
never  said  anything,  but  his  heart  was  heavy.  The  Prince 
protested  against  her  racing  in  this  fashion,  which  might 
have  been  all  very  well  on  her  native  plains.  The  girl's 
retorts  widened  the  breach  between  them,  with  feelings 
of  hostility.  "No  one  is  going  to  talk  to  me  like  that,  not 
even  my  mother,"  she  said.  "I'm  old  enough  to  know 
what  I  ought  to  do."    She  was  fifteen. 

One  morning  in  the  Bois,  coming  t©  a  cross  road  that 
happened  to  catch  her  fancy,  Alicia  started  her  korse  for 
the  Avenue  without  consulting  her  companion. 

"No,  this  way,"  Michael  called  in  a  commanding  voice. 

"I  don't  like  that ;  this  is  the  way !"  she  answered  ag- 
gressively. 

The  Prince  made  an  effort  to  cut  her  off  by  crossing 
ahead  of  her,  and  she  spurred  her  horse  against  Michael's 
with  a  shock  that  brought  the  two  animals  to  their  knees. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  53 

The  Colonel,  who  was  behind  them,  caught  an  exchange 
of  angry  glances,  and  harsh  words.  Alicia  raised  her 
whip,  and  struck  the  Prince  across  the  shoulders, 

"You  do  that  to  meT  shouted  Michael  furiously. 

The  face  of  this  scion  of  the  old  Cossack  Lubimoff  un- 
derwent a  rapid  scries  of  expressions,  finally  taking  an 
aspect  of  extreme  ugliness  and  savagery.  His  nostrils 
seemed  to  dilate  even  more  than  usual.  He  raised  his 
whip  and  struck,  but  Toledo  had  put  his  horse  between 
the  two,  receiving  the  tip  of  the  lash  on  his  cheek,  which 
began  to  bleed.  The  sight  of  blood  and  the  thought  that 
the  blow  was  intended  for  her,  drove  the  young  woman 
mad  with  rage. 

"Brute!     Savage!   .    .    .  Russian!" 

This  seemed  too  mild,  and  she  stopped  for  a  moment, 
to  think  up  a  greater  insult.  Her  childhood  memories 
helped  her;  the  legend  she  had  heard  from  the  half- 
breeds  back  in  her  own  land  inspired  her  with  a  new 
affront,  as  if  Michael  Fedor  were  Fernan  Cortes. 

"Spaniard !   .    .    .   Murderer  of  Indians !" 

And  fearing  a  new  lashing  after  that  supreme  insult, 
she  fled  at  a  mad  pace  without  stopping  until  she  reached 
the  Arch  of  Triumph. 

After  this  incident  Doiia  Mercedes  lost  all  hope  of  her 
daughter's  becoming  a  Lubimoff. 

"A  Russian  Princess!"  she  said  scornfully.  "Why, 
everyone  is  a  Prince  in  Russia!  ...  A  mere  English 
baron  is  better,  or  a  French  or  Spanish  count." 

Michael  was  in  a  mood  no  more  conciliatory  when  the 
Colonel  lectured  him. 

"I  don't  want  to  hear  anything  more  about  'that 
wench !"  said  he. 

And  the  Prirtcess,  in  one  of  her  petulant  moments 
averred  that  she  considered  this  word  the  proper  one. 
These  relatives  of  Sir  Edwin  had  always  seemed  to  her 


54  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

very  ordinary  people.  Likewise  it  seemed  to  her  very 
natural  that  her  son  should  think  of  going  back  to  Russia 
to  fill  his  station  as  a  Prince.  The  life  of  caste  and  privi- 
lege there  was  more  suitable  to  his  rank  than  the  demo- 
cratic ways  of  Paris,  where  certain  American  Indians,  be- 
cause they  had  millions,  could  imagine  they  were  the 
equals  of  the  Lubimoifs. 

Prince  Michael  remained  in  Russia  until  he  was  twenty- 
three.  His  military  studies  were  passed  brilliantly,  ac- 
cording to  Toledo,  and  the  boy  succeeded  in  distinguish- 
ing himself  among  the  most  famous  cavalry  officers  of  the 
Guard.  He  took  prizes  in  exhibitions  of  horsemanship. 
With  his  revolver  he  could  pot  coins  held  up  at  fifty  paces 
by  his  comrades.  He  wielded  the  sabre  with  a  skill  that 
his  Cossack  ancestor  and  General  Saldana  would  have 
admired.  Every  morning  in  the  courtyard  of  his  Peters- 
burg palace  he  found  awaiting  him  a  life-sized  dummy 
made  of  the  firm  sticky  clay  used  by  sculptors.  He  would 
stay  for  half  an  hour  in  front  of  it,  going  through  his 
exercises.  It  was  not  enough  to  be  able  to  strike  one's 
enemy.  The  important  thing  was  to  strike  well,  with  the 
greatest  possible  depth  and  force.  And  the  head  and 
limbs  of  the  dummy  went  flying,  severed  by  the  steel 
blade.  The  study  of  military  science  was  all  well  enough 
for  those  in  the  infantry  or  the  artillery — sons  of  clerks 
and  merchants ! 

At  first  the  Colonel  was  astonished  at  the  magnificence 
and  extravagance  of  Russian  life.  Finally  he  came  to 
take  it  all  quite  naturally,  as  though  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  something  similar  from  his  earliest  boyhood. 
"My  son,  remember  the  name  you  bear,"  the  Princess 
used  to  write  to  the  Prince.  "Do  not  disgrace  it.  Spend 
according  to  what  you  are."  And  the  son,  without  ask- 
ing her  for  anything,  followed  her  advice  faithfully  by 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  $5 

coming  to  a  direct  understanding  with  the  Russian  ad- 
ministrators, Don  Marcos  figured  that  the  Lieutenant  in 
the  Guard  was  spending  something  over  three  millions  a 
year.  His  racing  stables  were  the  most  celebrated  in 
the  capital.  Many  famous  beauties  of  the  court  and  the 
theaters  were  on  good  terms  with  Prince  Michael  Fedor. 
His  supper  parties  in  the  Lubimoff  palace  or  in  the  fash- 
ionable restaurants  were  sought  after  by  all  the  young 
men  of  the  aristocracy.  To  be  invited  to  one  of  them 
was  an  extraordinary  honor,  something  like  being  a 
member  of  an  academy  of  supermen.  It  often  happened 
that  toward  morning  on  nights  of  such  parties  celebrated 
women  finished  by  dancing  naked  on  the  tables,  so  that 
the  host  "might  not  be  displeased." 

Sometimes  these  celebrations  ended  in  drunken  brawls, 
where  wine  mingled  with  blood.  The  Colonel  had  seen 
one  of  these  suppers  result  in  a  duel  between  two  of  the 
guests.  It  took  place  in  the  palace  garden,  just  before 
dawn.  One  of  the  men  was  killed.  His  best  friends  car- 
ried the  corpse  to  the  quay  of  the  Neva,  and  placed  a  re- 
volver in  his  hand  to  make  it  look  like  a  case  of  suicide. 

No:  Don  Marcos  did  not  care  much  for  those  noc- 
turnal feasts.  He  considered  them  dangerous.  On  one 
occasion,  a  youthful  Grand  Duke,  absolutely  drunk, 
amused  himself  by  daubing  the  Colonel's  whiskers  with 
caviar,  until,  tired  of  such  brazen  familiarity,  the  Span- 
iard in  turn  put  his  hand  in  the  dish  and  smeared  the 
other  man's  august  face  with  green.  The  duke  hesitated 
for  a  moment  whether  or  not  to  kill  him,  but  finally 
embraced  him,  covering  him  with  kisses  and  shouting 
aloud,  "This  is  my  father." 

Toledo  preferred  his  own  honorable  and  quiet  friend- 
ships with  General  Saldana's  former  companions  in  arms ; 
solemn  personages  who  talked  to  him  about  world  politics 


56  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

and  future  wars.  Besides,  the  Prince's  generosity  per- 
mitted the  Colonel  secret  pleasures,  less  noisy,  and  agree- 
ably unostentatious. 

One  night,  returning  to  the  Lubimoff  palace  after  two 
o'clock,  he  saw  there  was  a  supper  party  in  the  great  din- 
ing hall  used  on  gala  occasions.  Some  fifty  guests  had 
assembled,  and  in  the  course  of  the  night  many  more  had 
arrived.  It  seemed  that  the  news  had  spread  throughout 
all  the  pleasure  resorts  of  the  capital,  attracting  all  the 
youthful  libertines. 

Opposite  the  Prince  was  seated  a  Cossack  officer,  short, 
lithe  as  a  panther,  dark  skinned,  with  Asiatic  eyes.  His 
wrinkled  uniform  showed  signs  of  recent  traveling. 
Michael  Fedor  showed  him  the  greatest  attention,  as 
though  he  were  the  only  guest.  Toledo,  being  acquainted 
with  all  the  friends  of  the  house,  was  unable  to  place  this 
uncouth  Cossack,  who  looked  as  though  he  had  come 
from  some  remote  garrison  in  Siberia.  Some  one  offered 
to  relieve  his  uncertainty.  He  was  startled  on  learning 
that  it  was  the  brother  of  a  court  lady  who  just  at  that 
moment  was  being  much  talked  about  on  account  of  her 
extreme  familiarity  with  Michael  Fedor.  The  two  men 
looked  at  each  other  with  keen  interest,  exchanging  silent 
toasts  in  huge  glasses  of  champagne.  At  the  other  end  of 
the  hall  arose  the  ceaseless  wail  of  gypsy  violins.  Several 
dark  skinned  girls  with  striped  aprons  of  many  colors 
were  dancing  about  the  tables.  But  in  spite  of  that,  Don 
Marcos,  glancing  about,  felt  instinctively  a  note  of  gloom. 

"Leon,  the  sabres !" 

The  Prince,  after  looking  at  his  watch,  had  arisen  and 
given  this  order  to  his  body  servant,  who  was  standing 
behind  him.  All  the  guests  rushed  for  the  doors  forming 
a  jam,  like  a  crowd,  pushing  and  shoving,  at  the  entrance 
to  a  theater.  There  was  no  reason  now  to  conceal  their 
real  feelings.    They  were  eager  for  the  promised  spec- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  57 

tacle.  The  Colonel  finally  found  some  one  who  could  talk 
intelligibly. 

"He  came  last  night,  to  ask  the  Prince  to  marry  his  sis- 
ter. A  thirty-eight  day  trip.  .  .  .  The  Prince  refuses. 
...  It  isn't  often  you'll  see  a  match  like  this.  .  .  . 
He's  the  best  swordsman  in  Siberia." 

The  garden  was  covered  with  snow.  It  was  night,  and 
the  uncertain  moon  illumined  it  with  slanting  rays,  length- 
ening immeasurably  the  shadows  of  the  trees.  More  than 
a  hundred  men  formed  in  two  black  masses  on  the  bor- 
ders of  the  walk.  The  Colonel  noticed  the  arrival  of  sev- 
eral servants.  One  was  bringing  swords ;  the  rest  were 
carrying  large  trays  with  bottles  and  glasses. 

Michael  Fedor  bowed  to  his  enemy,  his  eyes  shining 
with  kindliness  and  drink. 

"Would  you  like  another  glass  of  something?" 

The  Cossack  thanked  him  with  a  gesture,  and  imme- 
diately Toledo  saw  him  remove  his  long  coat,  the  breast  of 
which  was  adorned  with  cartridge  pouches.  Then  he  took 
off  his  shirt,  and  finally  remained  in  nothing  save  his 
trousers  and  high  boots.  Then  he  stooped,  and  seizing 
two  handfuls  of  snow,  began  to  rub  his  wiry  body  and 
muscular  arms. 

The  Prince,  like  many  of  the  spectators,  shivered 
slightly  with  surprise  and  cold ;  but  nevertheless  that  the 
condition  of  the  combat  might  be  equal,  Lubimoff  felt  it 
imperative  that  he  should  follow  the  example  of  his 
hardy  adversary.  While  he  was  removing  the  upper  part 
of  his  uniform  several  torches  were  lighted  and  began 
to  blaze  like  red  stars  in  the  semi-darkness  of  the  moonlit 
garden. 

Don  Marcos  could  see  the  two  men  face  to  face.  They 
were  bare  from  the  waist  up.  Their  breasts  shone  from 
the  moisture  of  the  recent  massage.  In  their  hands  quiv- 
ered sabres  as  sharp  as  razors. 


S8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Ready!" 

Some  one  was  directing  the  fight. 

"Why  this  is  barbarous !"  thought  the  Spaniard.  "These 
men  are  savages." 

He  did  not  dare  say  it  aloud  because  he  was  a  soldier, 
and  more  than  that,  a  Colonel ;  but  during  the  rest  of  his 
life  he  never  could  forget  that  scene. 

They  crossed  swords,  parried,  attacked,  the  Prince  with 
firm  poise,  the  other  with  catlike  agility.  Toledo  could 
see  that  their  bodies  were  blood  red,  but  at  the  moment 
he  thought  it  an  effect  of  the  torchlight.  As  they  drew 
near  him,  circling  about  in  their  deadly  play,  he  realized 
that  they  were  actually  red  with  blood.  Their  bodies 
seemed  covered  with  a  purple  vestment  that  was  torn  to 
shreds  and  the  shreds  quivered  at  the  ends  as  the  blood 
dripped  off.  Standing  out  against  that  warm  moist  gar- 
ment rose  their  white  arms.  The  Prince  was  getting  the 
worst  of  it.  Toledo  suddenly  saw  a  deep  gash  appear  in 
his  brow ;  a  moment  later  he  thought  he  saw  one  of  his 
ears  hang  half  severed  from  the  skull.  But  that  wild 
cat  from  the  steppes  always  sprang  free  from  every  sabre 
thrust.  No  one  dared  intervene;  it  was  a  duel  without 
quarter,  without  rest,  with  no  condition  save  the  death 
of  one  or  the  other  combatant.  At  times  they  came  to- 
gether, forming  a  single  body  bristling  with  white  flashes 
in  the  shadow  of  the  trees ;  a  moment  later  they  appeared 
apart,  seeking  each  other  in  the  fiery  circle  of  the  torches. 

Suddenly  Toledo  heard  a  wild  cry  of  pain,  the  howl  of 
a  poor  animal  caught  unawares.  The  Prince  was  the  only 
one  still  standing.  A  straight  thrust  had  slashed  his  ad- 
versary's jugular.  Lubimoff  stood  there  a  moment  mo- 
tionless. Then  his  superhuman  strength,  which  had  sus- 
tained him  until  then,  left  him.  With  the  loss  of  blood, 
all  the  weariness  of  the  struggle  came  over  him  like  a 
shot.     He  too  tottered  and  fell,  but  into  the  arms  of 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  59 

friends.  There  was  not  a  single  doctor  among  the  spec- 
tators. No  one  had  thought  of  that.  They  considered 
the  presence  of  one  unnecessary  in  an  encounter  that 
could  end  only  in  death. 

All  the  curiosity  seekers  left  the  garden,  following  the 
unconscious  Prince.  A  few  servants  stayed  behind,  gath- 
ered about  the  body  of  the  Cossack.  He  was  lying  face 
downward.  With  respectful  awe  they  watched  as  his  legs 
quivered  for  the  last  time,  as  the  blocxi  slowly  emptied 
itself  from  the  neck,  and  spread  out  across  the  snow,  in 
a  black  stain  that  was  beginning  to  take  on  a  bluish  tinge 
in  the  livid  light  of  dawn. 

At  the  court,  which  had  already  shown  frequent  alarm 
over  the  Prince's  notorious  adventures,  this  event  caused 
a  great  stir.  Lubimoff's  duels,  his  love  affairs,  his  scan- 
dalous entertainments,  annoyed  the  young  Emperor,  who 
had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  improve  the  morals  of  his 
associates. 

In  aristocratic  gatherings,  the  freakish  whims  of  the 
almost  forgotten  Nadina  Lubimoff  were  brought  to 
memory  and  discussed  again.  The  young  Cossack  was 
related  to  people  of  influence,  and  his  death  contributed  to 
the  complete  disgrace  of  his  sister. 

Michael  Fedor  had  not  yet  entirely  recovered  from  his 
wounds,  when  he  received  the  order  to  leave  Russia. 
The  Czar  was  banishing  him,  and  for  an  indefinite  period. 
He  might  live  in  Paris  with  his  mother. 

"That's  all  right ;  so  long  as  they  respect  his  income," 
was  the  Colonel's  only  comment. 

Arriving  in  Paris,  the  Prince  was  convinced  of  his 
mother's  insanity.  That  was  something  he  had  suspected 
for  some  time,  from  her  letters.  Sir  Edwin  had  died, 
rather  suddenly,  three  years  before,  in  England,  following 
defeat  in  an  election.  The  palace  in  the  Monceau  quarter 
had  suffered  an  interior  transformation  that  represented 


i6o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

a  cost  of  several  millions.  The  Princess  was  devoting  all 
her  time  to  it.  The  Arabic,  Persian,  Greek,  or  Chinese 
drawing  rooms,  the  construction  and  decoration  of  which 
liad  made  the  fortune  of  two  architects  and  several  deal- 
ers in  doubtful  antiques,  had  just  disappeared ;  while  fur- 
nishings acquired  years  before  as  extremely  rare  pieces 
had  been  scattered  to  the  four  winds  as  though  they 
were  mere  rubbish  of  no  value.  The  palace  remained  the 
same  as  before  on  the  outside ;  but  the  interior,  beginning 
with  the  stairway,  was  rebuilt  in  imitation  of  a  medieval 
<:astle.  Not  a  single  window  remained  without  its  stained 
glass,  not  a  room  but  was  shrouded  in  the  vague  half  light 
-of  a  cellar.  All  the  conventional  Gothic  known  to  modern 
contractors  was  employed  by  order  of  the  Princess  in  the 
restoration  of  the  house.  Three  stories  and  one  entire 
wing  had  been  torn  down  to  form  the  nave  of  a  cathe- 
dral. 

Michael  saw  advancing  toward  him  a  tall  austere  wom- 
an, with  long  transparent  fingers,  and  large,  staring,  un- 
•canny  eyes.  She  was  dressed  in  black,  with  loose  sleeves 
that  almost  touched  the  ground,  and  with  a  white  bonnet 
fitting  close  to  the  head  beneath  her  mourning  veils.  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  she  had  a  rosary  at  her  wrist  and 
talked  with  the  air  of  a  martyr,  her  son  imagined  that  he 
was  looking  at  an  opera  singer. 

The  expulsion  of  the  Prince  from  Russia  had  caused 
her  neither  surprise  nor  sorrow. 

"Those  Romanoflis  have  always  disliked  us.  They 
-cannot  forget  that  your  illustrious  ancestor,  so  they  say, 
used  to  beat  Catherine  when  he  caught  her  with  anyone 
-else." 

Her  thoughts  rose  above  all  such  worldly  considera- 
tions. She  had  never,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  taken  any  stock 
in  religion ;  but  now  she  declared  herself  a  Catholic  She 
had  made  no  public  declaration  of  conversion,  to  be  sure, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  6i 

but  she  felt  she  must  adopt  the  belief.    Her  new  and  final 
personality  demanded  it. 

"Your  father  approves  of  my  new  stand.  Often  in- 
the  night  I  have  talked  with  my  hero.  He  is  glad  to  see- 
me  in  the  path  of  truth." 

No  sooner  had  Michael  Fedor  and  the  Colonel  arrived^ 
than  they  noticed  the  strange  visitors  who  were  frequent- 
ing the  palace.  The  long  haired  terrorists  had  been  suc- 
ceeded by  numerous  fortune  tellers,  soothsayers,  clair- 
voyants, and  solemn  professors  of  occult  sciences.  A 
plain  old  lamp-stand,  which  looked  as  though  it  might 
have  walked  upstairs  by  itself  from  the  concierge's  quar- 
ters, was  jumping  about  and  rapping,  at  all  hours,  in  the. 
bedroom  of  the  Princess. 

One  day  she  decided  to  tell  her  son  the  great  secret 
of  her  life.  At  last  she  knew  who  she  was;  the  spirits, 
had  revealed  to  her  the  knowledge  of  her  true  personal- 
ity. In  one  of  her  many  previous  existences  she  had 
been  the  most  unfortunate  and  beautiful,  the  most  "ro- 
mantic", of  queens.  The  soul  of  the  Russian  princess, 
Nadina  Lubimoff,  centuries  ago  had  dwelt  in  the  body  of 
Mary  Stuart. 

"That  is  why  I  always  had  a  special  liking  for  the  story 
of  the  unhappy  queen.  And  now  I  know  why,  when  I 
saw  Sir  Edwin  in  London,  I  fell  in  love  with  him  on  the 
spot,  in  the  most  irresistible  fashion.  His  ancestors  were 
Scottish." 

Such  reasons  were  to  her  as  unanswerable  as  all  the 
others  which  had  guided  her  actions.  And  to  pay  hom- 
age to  the  queenly  soul  which  was,  according  to  all  her 
mystic  attendants,  reincarnated  in  her,  she  was  going  to 
live  like  the  beheaded  sovereign  of  Scotland,  copying  the 
Queen's  clothes  as  she  had  seen  them  in  pictures,  convert- 
ing her  palace  into  a  mediaeval  castle,  and  eating  from 
antique  plates  nothing  but  Renaissance  delicacies,  the  re- 


€2  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

cipes  for  which  she  had  employed  a  history  professor  to 
discover  in  ancient  chronicles. 

Carriages  now  rarely  entered  the  Court  of  Honor  of 
the  palace.  The  grand  stairway  was  growing  mossy  be- 
tween its  steps.  Not  so  the  delivery  entrance.  There, 
each  day,  the  professionals  of  "the  beyond"  appeared, 
poorly  dressed  and  suspicious  looking  men  and  women, 
who  were  exploiting  the  Princess,  generous  as  a  queen — 
and  was  she  not  one? — under  the  guise  of  aiding  her  in 
the  manipulation  of  the  lamp  table,  and  conjuring  up 
historic  phantoms  which,  to  prove  their  presence,  moved 
the  carpets,  made  the  pictures  fall  from  the  walls, 
changed  the  positions  of  the  chairs,  and  committed  other 
childish  deviltries. 

Dona  Mercedes  avoided  visiting  the  Princess.  Her 
simple  faith  caused  her  to  be  frightened  at  queens  that 
last  for  centuries,  and  at  those  halls  with  old  furniture 
that  seemed  to  palpitate  with  mysterious  life.  She  pre- 
ferred the  quiet  wholesome  conversation  of  the  priests 
whom  she  was  supporting  for  herself.  The  Aragonese 
vicar  had  allowed  himself  to  be  snatched  away  in  triumph 
by  another  devout  millionaire.  He  had  grown  tired,  no 
doubt,  of  the  excessive  ease  and  idleness  afforded  him  by 
his  penitent,  and  was  bored  with  astronomical  observa- 
tions on  the  roof  of  the  dwelling  in  the  Champs-Elysees. 

At  present  she  was  offering  her  hospitality  to  a  Mon- 
signor,  a  Bishop  in  partibus,  who  directed  the  widow's 
money  into  various  pious  charities  of  his  own  invention. 

Alicia  had  married  a  French  Duke,  twenty  years  her 
senior,  and  after  a  few  months  of  marriage  was  causing 
herself  to  be  very  much  talked  about.  Dofia  Mercedes, 
offended,  was  punishing  her  by  seeing  her  very  seldom,  in 
hopes  that  such  coldness  would  cause  the  Duchess  de  De- 
lille  to  follow  the  example  of  her  mother.  In  the  mean- 
time, the  latter  was  concentrating  all  her  family  affec- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  63 

tion  on  the  Monsignor,  a  saint,  and  a  man  of  the  world, 
who  in  the  evening,  to  avoid  a  discordant  note,  took  off 
his  cassock  and  sat  down  at  table  in  a  tuxedo,  while  a 
flock  of  mechanical  birds  sang  and  flapped  their  wings  in 
the  large  gilded  cage  in  the  Creole's  dining  room. 

Michael  Fedor  saw  Alicia  twice  in  the  Lubimoff  palace. 
She  did  not  feel  there  the  uneasiness  her  mother  experi- 
enced, and  even  declared  the  manias  of  the  Princess  very 
original  and  interesting.  Afternoons  when  she  was  bored, 
and  paid  the  Princess  a  visit,  she  too  seemed  to  believe 
in  the  lamp  table  and  in  the  "Queen's"  proteges  with  the 
mystic  gestures. 

She  too  consulted  them  to  find  out  whether  she  would 
be  happy,  and  especially  whether  she  would  be  greatly 
loved,  although  she  never  told  who  it  was  that  was  sup- 
posed to  love  her.  On  other  occasions  she  asked  the 
oracle,  with  a  note  of  jealous  anxiety  in  her  voice,  what 
a  certain  unknown  person  was  doing  at  that  particular 
time.  The  name  of  the  person  was  kept  secret,  but  some 
months  he  would  be  dark  and  at  other  times  he  would  be 
blond.  She  and  the  lamp  table  understood  each  other 
perfectly. 

"I  always  said  that  girl  was  cleverer  than  her  mother, "^ 
the  Princess  affirmed. 

When  Alicia  first  met  the  Prince,  on  his  return  home, 
she  burst  out  laughing,  and  almost  embraced  him. 

"Do  you  remember  how  we  used  to  hate  each  other? 
Do  you  remember  that  day  in  the  Bois  when  we  whipped 
each  other?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  interest,  scrutinizing 
him  from  head  to  heel  without  detecting  anything  of  the 
displeasing  youth  of  former  times.  She  knew  of  his  ad- 
ventures in  Russia,  his  loves,  his  duels,  his  expulsion.  An 
interesting  man!  A  Byronic  fellow!  Besides,  she  had 
heard  that  he  was  a  bit  of  a  brute  with  women. 


64  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Come  and  see  me.  We  must  be  friends.  Remember 
we  are  relatives." 

Michael  scrutinized  her  also,  but  with  a  certain  serious- 
ness. He  had  heard  a  great  deal  about  her  since  arriving 
in  Paris.  During  her  three  years  of  married  life  the 
Duke  had  tried  twice  to  divorce  her.  It  weighed  on  his 
mind  to  think  that  he  should  be  enjoying  immense  wealth 
just  in  return  for  allowing  her  to  bear  his  name.  When 
he  shook  hands  with  a  friend,  he  was  never  sure  of  the 
latter's  relations  with  his  wife.  But  Alicia  had  married 
the  Duke  in  order  to  be  a  Duchess,  and  in  the  end  the 
couple  came  to  a  practical  agreement.  Half  of  her  in- 
come was  to  go  to  the  Duke,  who  was  to  travel,  or,  if  he 
Avished,  reside  in  Paris  with  a  former  mistress.  Alicia 
might  live  as  she  pleased  in  her  splendid  white  mansion 
in  the  Avenue  du  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  display  a 
ducal  coronet  on  her  underwear,  on  her  silver,  and  on 
the  doors  of  her  motor  cars. 

The  little  horsewoman  of  the  Mexican  plains,  trained 
to  morning  gallops,  had  been  transformed  into  a  woman 
of  proud  and  arrogant  beauty.  To  Michael  she  looked 
like  a  California  orange,  golden,  gleaming,  wafting  a 
strong  sweet  fragrance. 

Inwardly  he  winced  at  the  gaze  of  those  dark  eyes,  so 
enticing  and  fascinating,  so  provoking  and  commanding, 
in  full  consciousness  of  power. 

But  no.  He  remembered  that  various  men  whom  he 
disliked,  had,  according  to  common  gossip,  already  pre- 
ceded him  in  falling  under  Alicia's  spell.  And  for  the 
time  being  he  was  interested  in  a  French  actress,  whom  he 
had  met  on  the  train  returning  from  Russia. 

Besides,  he  suddenly  beheld  her  again  in  his  imagina- 
tion as  she  was  years  before.  Perhaps  she  had  not 
-changed.  She  was  used  to  managing  men  with  a  firm 
hand,  to  changing  from  one  to  another,  as  though  they 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  65 

were  post  horses.  He  and  Alicia  would  quarrel  at  their 
second  meeting.  They  might  easily  end  by  coming  to 
blows. 

He  saw  no  more  of  her.  New  preoccupations  changed 
the  direction  of  his  thoughts.  One  day  in  the  street  he 
met  a  Russian  who  seemed  old  and  ill.  It  was  Sergueff, 
his  former  teacher.  Sergueff  must  now  have  been  some 
forty  years  of  age.  He  looked  as  though  he  were  in  his 
seventies,  with  a  dirty  white  beard,  grayish  skin,  and  a 
wrinkled  almost  motheaten  face,  with  no  sign  of  life  save 
in  the  two  green  holes  that  marked  his  eyes.  From  Saint 
Petersburg  they  had  sent  him  to  a  prison  in  Siberia.  He 
had  escaped,  crossed  half  of  Asia  on  foot  and  alone,  as 
far  as  a  Chinese  seaport,  and  there  he  had  taken  ship  for 
the  United  States.  The  story  of  this  tour  of  the  world 
was  told  in  a  few  words,  as  though  it  were  a  single  walk 
on  the  boulevards. 

Michael  Fedor  took  him  to  the  palace.  The  Colonel 
seemed  dismayed  by  Sergueff's  presence,  and  drew  back 
into  his  shell.  He  must  remember  his  own  connections 
with  nobles  of  the  Russian  court!  Some  of  them  were 
former  generals  of  police ! 

The  son  of  Princess  LubimoflF  talked  for  several  days 
with  the  fugitive.  The  memory  of  his  own  expulsion  from 
the  court  caused  Michael  vaguely  to  sympathize  with 
this  man  who  was  likewise  an  exile.  Besides,  in  the  depths 
of  his  mind  something  of  his  mother's  character  was 
stirring,  with  all  its  inconsistencies  and  hazy  vague  de- 
sires. The  officer  of  the  Guard  listened  as  attentively 
as  a  scholar  to  the  doctrines  of  the  revolutionist. 

"Why,  those  men  are  right!"  he  exclaimed  with  the 
passionate  enthusiasm  that  the  Princess  herself  expressed 
for  every  novelty. 

For  the  first  few  days  he  felt  a  yearning  for  martyr- 
dom, a  deep  desire  for  renunciation,  the  mystic  abnega- 


66      ^        THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tion  of  the  man  of  his  race.  He  thought  of  many  princes 
like  himself,  educated  at  court,  with  high  social  positions, 
who  had  given  away  their  wealth  to  live  among  the  poor 
and  dedicate  their  lives  to  the  triumph  of  truth  and 
justice.  He  would  do  the  same.  He  would  reawaken 
to  true  life,  and  he  was  sure  that  his  mother  would  ap- 
prove. General  Saldana  had  given  his  blood  to  rehabili- 
tate the  past ;  he  would  give  his  to  overcome  all  obstacles 
in  the  pathway  of  the  future.  Times  change.  The  past 
consists  of  a  certain  number  of  centuries ;  the  future  is 
infinite. 

But  Lubimoff  was  not  a  true  Russian.  No  sooner  had 
he  decided  to  carry  out  his  mystic  determination,  than 
the  Latin  love  of  pleasure  reawakened  in  him.  Life  is 
good,  and  offers  many  pleasant  things!  For  him  the 
tree  of  life  was  still  overflowing  with  sap;  there  still 
remained  for  him  so  many  leafy  springs,  so  many  fruitful 
summers !  Later,  perhaps,  when  only  the  dry  wood  re- 
mained. .  .  . 

The  one  positive  and  immediate  result  of  this  resurrec- 
tion was  Michael's  sense  of  his  own  ignorance  and  of 
the  emptiness  of  his  life.  There  was  something  in  the 
world  besides  knowing  languages,  wielding  rapiers,  and 
riding  horses.  Man  should  seek  the  realization  of  his 
greatness  in  more  serious  enterprises  than  love  making, 
duels  and  betting.  Fate,  in  giving  him  wealth,  had  ex- 
empted him  from  the  harsh  necessity  of  work.  But  that 
was  no  reason  why  he  should  renounce  making  his  mark 
in  the  world,  as  he  passed  through  it,  just  as  thousands 
of  his  predecessors  had  done,  and  as  millions  of  men  to 
come  would  continue  to  do. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Michael  sought  the  com- 
radeship of  books,  and  this  initial  reading  stirred  him 
with  a  new  desire.  He  made  up  his  mind  to  know  the 
world,  to  see  strange  countries,  to  struggle  with  the  blind 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  67 

forces,  which  form  the  pulsing  of  the  planet,  and  to  live 
the  coarse  rough  adventures  of  men  who  go  from  port  to 
port.  His  father  had  told  him  of  remote  ancestors  of 
the  Saldana  family,  who  had  gained  titles  and  fortunes 
by  setting  sail  from  humble  Spanish  harbors,  swooping 
out  like  sea  gulls  across  the  gloomy  Ocean,  in  the  track 
of  Columbus  and  the  Pinzons,  in  search  of  new  lands 
of  mystery.  An  ancestor  of  his,  disembarking  with  the 
aged  Ponce  de  Leon  in  Florida,  in  search  of  the  famous 
"Fountain  of  Youth,"  had  been  one  of  the  discoverers 
of  the  present  United  States.  The  first  Saldana  to  be 
a  noble  had  obtained  his  title  of  "don"  by  founding  a 
city  in  the  neighborhood  of  Panama.  Why  should  he 
not  be  a  navigator  like  his  forebears,  a  wanderer,  of 
the  seas,  enjoying  exotic  pleasures,  and  perhaps  succeed- 
ing in  wresting  some  secret  from  the  blue  deep? 

Life  in  that  palace  which  his  mother's  mania  had  ren- 
dered ugly,  was  becoming  uncomfortable  and  distasteful, 
and  was  impelling  him  to  flee.  The  Princess  did  not 
make  the  slightest  objection,  when  informed  that  her 
son  desired  to  buy  a  yacht  to  navigate  the  seven  seas. 
Let  him  do  so,  by  all  means !  It  was  a  princely  pastime, 
quite  worthy  of  a  Prince  Lubimoff.  They  were  con- 
stantly growing  richer.  The  oil,  the  platinum,  all  the 
precious  ores  of  their  properties  and  the  products  of 
their  lands,  as  large  as  nations,  made  up  an  enormous 
income.  The  preceding  year  it  had  reached  the  sum  of 
seventeen  million  francs :  a  million  a  month !  For  a  single 
private  family  it  meant  unbelievable  wealth,  and  the 
Princess  Lubimoff,  who  had  temporarily  regained  her 
sanity,  modestly  added : 

"But  for  a  queen  it  isn't  much." 

In  England  Michael  purchased  a  sailing  yacht,  with  a 
sharp  bow,  bold  masts,  and  an  auxiliary  engine,  and 
gave  it  the  Spanish  name  for  the  sea  gull,  the  "Gaviota.*' 


68  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

His  idea  was  to  continue  on  the  ocean  the  life  he  had 
led  on  land,  selecting,  however,  only  its  most  interesting 
phases.  For  that  reason  he  decided  to  take  Sergueff 
along.  The  teacher  seemed  melancholy,  as  though  the 
comforts  and  the  liberal  sums  of  money  which  the  Prince 
bestowed  on  him  weighed  on  his  conscience  like  remorse. 
He  had  something  more  urgent  to  do  in  the  world  than 
voyage  idly  hither  and  thither  in  a  luxurious  boat.  He 
disappeared  one  day,  to  return  to  Russia,  as  though  the 
gallows  had  a  fascination  for  him.  Or  was  it  that  he 
preferred,  in  case  of  better  luck  than  that,  to  travel  once 
again  around  the  world,  but  in  his  own  manner? 

The  Colonel,  as  the  aide  de  camp  of  the  Prince,  felt 
obliged  to  embark.  He  had  never  yet  left  "his  boy's" 
side!  But,  oh,  he  was  not  blessed  with  sea  legs,  and, 
much  less,  with  a  sea  stomach!  He  was  a  hero  of  the 
mountains !  They  were  obliged  to  send  him  back  to  Paris 
from  a  port  in  Brazil. 

The  voyage  of  the  Gaviota  lasted  for  five  years.  In 
the  second  year  Michael  Fedor  thought  his  career  as  a 
navigator  was  about  to  be  interrupted.  The  war  between 
Russia  and  Japan  had  just  broken  out  and  he  cabled  from 
a  Pacific  port,  asking  for  his  former  place  in  the  Guard. 
The  reply  was  a  long  time  in  coming.  The  Czar  was  still 
angry  with  him  and  kept  him  in  exile. 

"So  much  the  better!"  Michael  finally  said  to  himself 
in  a  voice  choked  with  anger.  He  guessed  what  was 
going  to  happen ;  what  was  to  be  the  final  fate  of  those 
brave  Russians  of  the  sharp  sabers,  when  they  came  to 
face  the  astute  little  yellow  men  who  had  silently  gone 
on  appropriating  the  most  scientific  occidental  arts  of 
killing. 

His  adventures  in  the  various  ports,  his  relations  with 
women  of  every  race  and  color,  were  sufficient  to  fill  his 
life. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  69 

"I  am  studying  geography,"  he  wrote  Don  Marcos, 
after  inquiring  about  his  mother's  health.  "I  am  study- 
ing the  geography  of  love." 

It  was  not  long  before  he  was  obliged  to  interrupt  his 
cruise  to  return  to  the  Princess.  The  physicians  had 
ordered  her  away  from  the  Paris  palace,  with  its  gloomy 
decorations  so  stimulating  to  her  obsessions.  They  were 
sending  her  to  the  Riviera  to  drink  sunlight  and  open  air. 

And  poor  Maria  Stuart,  absolutely  incognito,  went 
from  one  large  hotel  to  another,  occupying  entire  floors 
with  her  retinue  of  much  beaten  Russian  servants  and 
much  adored  soothsayers  and  witch  doctors.  She  was 
the  despair  of  the  hotel  keepers,  who  were  always  glad 
to  see  her  depart,  though  she  alone  paid  more  than  all 
the  other  guests  put  together. 

Her  son  found  her  looking  like  a  specter  in  her  flowing 
mourning  garb.  She  was  weaker  and  thinner,  and  her 
eyes  had  taken  on  an  alarming,  fixed  stare,  which  gave 
one  the  creeps.  Her  complexion  had  lost  its  former 
whiteness,  gradually  growing  darker  as  though  burned 
by  an  inner  fire.  For  the  moment  her  sole  preoccupation 
was  the  construction  of  a  palace  on  the  Blue  Coast.  On 
French  territory,  in  sight  of  Monte  Carlo,  she  had  bought 
a  small  promontory,  a  spur  of  land  and  rocks  jutting  out 
into  the  sea,  a  ridge  covered  with  century-old  olive  trees 
and  gnarled  pines.  She  was  kept  busy  quarreling  with  a 
stubborn  old  couple,  an  aged  peasant  and  his  wife,  who 
were  refusing  to  sell  her  the  extreme  point  of  the  head- 
land. She  had  already  spent  many  thousands  of  francs 
on  the  plans  of  the  future  palace.  Architects,  painters, 
and  landscape  gardeners  were  constantly  working  for  her, 
making  studies  of  the  historic  past,  in  the  endeavor  to 
view  of  the  Mediterranean  an  enormous  Scottish  castle 
express  her  imaginings.  Her  idea  was  to  erect  in  full 
as  Scotch  as  could  possibly  be  imagined ;  in  short,  accord- 


70  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ing  to  the  Princess,  it  was  to  be  "a  novel  of  Walter  Scott, 
done  in  stone." 

Michael  was  frightened.  The  sumptuous  dungeon  in 
Paris  was  to  be  repeated  in  the  face  of  that  luminous 
sea,  in  one  of  the  most  smiling  landscapes  of  the  earth. 
Behind  his  mother's  back  he  talked  with  all  the  men  who 
were  working  on  the  future  Villa  Sirena,  the  "Villa  of 
the  Sirens."  The  Princess  had  selected  this  name,  in 
the  conviction  that  on  moonlight  nights  the  daughters  of 
the  briny  deep  would  come  and  visit  her,  singing  on  the 
reefs  beneath  her  window.  That  was  the  least  they  could 
do  for  her ! 

Each  day  the  veil  of  mystery  was  opening  more  widely 
before  her  eyes,  allowing  her  to  see  things  which  for 
others  were  invisible. 

Don  Marcos,  who,  deserted  by  his  former  pupil,  had 
gone  back  to  the  Princess,  likewise  received  instructions 
from  Lubimoff.  He  was  to  prevent  the  unhappy  lady 
from  perpetrating  such  a  sacrilege  on  the  Mediterranean. 
But  what  could  the  poor  Colonel  do  with  that  madwoman 
who  spent  whole  weeks  without  speaking  to  him,  as 
though  she  did  not  know  who  he  was ! 

The  Prince  returned  to  his  yacht,  and  a  year  later 
being  by  chance  in  upper  Norway  on  his  return  from  an 
expedition  to  the  Arctic  Ocean,  he  received  the  sad  but 
expected  news.  His  mother  had  died,  just  as  she  saw 
rising  from  among  the  olive  trees  and  pines  of  the  rosy 
promontory,  the  beginning  of  huge  stone  walls  artificially 
blackened  like  the  painted  panels  in  the  antique  shops,  and 
which  looked  as  though  they  were  about  to  fall  in  ruins 
from  mere  age,  as  soon  as  they  had  risen  from  the 
ground. 


CHAPTER  III 

Michael  arrived  in  time  to  receive  the  body  of  the 
Princess  in  Paris.  Before  her  death  her  mind  had  been 
illuminated  by  the  sudden  flare  of  reason  which  is  the 
signal  of  the  end  in  cases  of  serious  mental  disturbances. 
She  had  left  various  papers  on  which  she  had  noted 
loans  made  to  certain  persons,  and  judicious  suggestions 
for  her  son  in  regard  to  the  management  of  the  enormous 
fortune.  She  wanted  to  be  buried  beside  her  husband, 
her  first  husband,  "the  hero,"  in  the  Pere  Lachaise  ceme- 
tery. During  the  last  years  she  had  stayed  in  Paris,  she 
had  been  seized  once  more  by  the  craze  for  building,  and 
had  busied  herself  with  the  preparation  of  her  final  dwell- 
ing place.  Beside  the  mausoleum  of  the  Marquis  of 
Villablanca,  whose  image,  frowning  and  indomitable,  held 
in  one  hand  a  broken  sword,  she  had  set  up  another 
monument  no  less  ostentatious  with  a  statue  which  was 
supposed  to  be  her  exact  likeness  and  was  nothing  less 
than  the  semblance  of  the  unhappy  Queen  of  Scots,  as 
it  appears  in  the  engraving  of  the  Romanticist  period. 

During  the  funeral  ceremonies,  Michael  Fedor  met 
again  many  persons  who  formerly  visited  the  Lubimoff 
palace,  and  whom  he  had  thought  were  dead.  Dona 
Mercedes  in  tears  embraced  him.  She  had  become  ex- 
traordinarily stout,  and  the  coppery  complexion  inherited 
from  her  Aztec  ancestors  had  taken  on  an  unhealthy 
ascetic  pallor.  She  looked  like  the  Mother  Superior  of 
a  noble  convent  of  nuns.  At  her  side,  Monsignor,  in  his 
silk  cassock  and  with  an  air  of  compunction,  was  moving 
his  lips  to  save  the  dead  woman's  soul.    "My  son !    We 

71 


^2  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Rave  all  our  sorrows."  And  as  she  said  this,  the  poor 
lady  looked  at  another  woman  elegantly  dressed  in 
mourning  who  stood  there  somewhat  aloof,  in  the  ceme- 
tery, and  seemed  utterly  incapacitated  by  the  ceremony 
which  had  obliged  her  to  rise  before  noon. 

The  Duchess  de  Delille  also  came  forward  to  meet 
him,  taking  both  his  hands  and  giving  him  a  strange 
glance. 

"Your  mother  loved  me  .  .  .  really  loved  me.  During 
these  last  years  we  saw  each  other  very  often." 

Michael  nodded  assent.  He  knew  that  already.  The 
Princess  Lubimoff  had  been  the  one  loyal  friend  of  this 
passionate  unscrupulous  woman,  who  was  gradually 
losing  every  one's  respect.  She  had  defended  AHcia 
when  other  high  society  women  declared  open  war  and 
closed  their  doors  to  her,  fearing  for  their  husbands' 
fidelity.  As  she  used  to  play  every  winter  at  Monte  Carlo, 
she  had  been  in  the  company  of  the  Princess  up  to  the 
last  moments. 

"She  loved  me  more  than  my  mother  ever  did.  .  .  . 
Perhaps  she  remembered  that  I  might  have  been  her 
daughter." 

The  Prince  walked  away,  as  though  annoyed  by  this 
allusion.  He  had  heard  such  things  about  her !  .  .  .  But 
all  during  the  ceremony  he  kept  seeing  her  in  his  mind's 
eye.  She  was  still  beautiful,  but  so  strangely  beautiful. 
Her  skin  had  lost  the  golden  tinge  of  ripened  fruit,  and 
now  was  pale,  the  dull  white  of  Japanese  paper.  Her 
large  eyes,  which  gave  off  green  and  yellow  glints,  stared 
with  disturbing  fixity  and  seemed  at  the  same  time  to 
have  a  blank  expression,  as  though  covered  by  an  in- 
visible spider  web.  Her  least  bitter  enemies  accused  her 
of  a  certain  propensity  for  spirits.  She  drank  all  sorts  of 
American  mixed  drinks  like  an  habitue  of  the  bars.  Other 
people  attributed  her  pallor  and  the  continual  darkly  be- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  73 

wildered  look  in  her  .eyes  to  morphine,  opium  and  all  the 
various  liquids  and  perfumes  producing  lethargy  and 
creating  "artificial  paradise."  The  little  Alicia  of  former 
years  was  drinking,  draining  it  to  the  last  drop  from  the 
cup  of  life  in  deep  draughts. 

Michael  Fedor  thought  that  he  had  seen  the  last  of 
her,  but  a  few  days  later  he  began  to  receive  letters.  He 
was  alone,  and  must  be  feeling  sad,  so  she  was  inviting 
him  to  come  and  eat  with  her,  informally,  of  course, 
as  was  natural  among  close  relatives.  His  evasions 
brought  fresh  invitations  by  telephone.  The  Prince,  like 
a  person  fulfulling  a  tiresome  social  obligation,  finally 
went  one  evening  to  her  little  palace  in  the  Avenue  du 
Bois,  one  of  the  numerous  imitations  of  the  Petit  Tria- 
non, which  are  to  be  found  in  various  parts  of  the  world. 

The  Duchess  de  Delille  was  proud  of  this  edifice  and 
the  tiny  garden  with  its  sharp,  gilded  grating,  in  front  of 
which  all  fashionable  Paris  passed.  Michael  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  drawing  rooms  without  ever  having 
been  inside  them.  The  illustrated  journals,  which  cover 
the  styles  of  wealthy  social  life,  had  published  photo- 
graphs, in  Europe  and  America,  of  the  interior  of  her 
residence.  Gossip  had  kept  him  informed  of  Alicia's 
strange  life.  She  had  suddenly  been  taken  with  the  mad 
desire  of  seeing  people,  of  being  admired,  and  of  aston- 
ishing every  one  by  her  prodigality.  She  gave  a  series 
of  great  fetes,  and  publicly  protested  because  the  munici- 
pality of  Paris  would  not  allow  her  to  illuminate  the 
entire  Champs  Elysees  and  the  Arch  of  Triumph  so  that 
her  guests  might  ride  up  to  her  very  door  in  a  fiery  apo- 
theosis. She  had  given  a  garden  party  in  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne,  with  water  sports,  and  dances  of  sacred 
dancers,  brought  from  Asia.  The  buffet  supper  had 
been  prepared  for  three  thousand  guests.  On  another 
occasion,  for  a  single  costume  ball,  she  spent  a  hundred 


74  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

thousand  francs,  to  transform  part  of  her  residence  into 
an  interior  of  Persian  style  and  the  next  day  she  began 
to  have  the  rooms  restored  to  their  original  state. 

Suddenly  she  would  disappear,  and  people  would  wink 
and  make  malicious  comments  because  she  left  no  ad- 
dress. Some  new  love  affair !  Hers  were  nearly  always 
wandering  fancies,  that  called  for  long  trips  and  new 
horizons !  Perhaps  she  was  in  Constantinople  or  in 
Egypt;  perhaps  she  was  in  hiding  in  one  of  the  large 
New  York  hotels.  At  times  such  guesses  were  right; 
and  then  again  the  most  intimate  friends  of  the  Duchess 
could  affirm  that  she  had  not  left  Paris.  Was  not  her 
automobile  standing  in  front  of  the  door? 

This  was  another  of  Alicia's  eccentricities.  At  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night,  one  of  her  various  expensive 
cars  was  kept  in  readiness  in  front  of  the  stairway.  Three 
chauffeurs  divided  the  service  between  them.  They  stayed 
in  the  porter's  quarters;  and  as  soon  as  the  bell  was 
heard,  they  had  only  to  put  on  their  gloves,  run  to  the 
machine,  and  start  the  motor.  She  often  chose  the  most 
extraordinary  hours  for  going  out.  Sometimes  it  would 
be  just  after  returning  from  a  ball,  then  again  she  would 
get  up  for  a  ride  after  she  had  gone  to  bed.  Frequently 
she  would  select  the  early  morning  hours  which  were 
usually  her  time  of  soundest  sleep. 

At  times  the  chauffeurs  would  succeed  each  other,  week 
after  week,  without  leaving  the  gate  of  the  mansion.  The 
Duchess  did  not  care  to  go  out.  She  no  longer  felt  her 
sudden  impulses  to  ride  aimlessly  about  Paris,  while  the 
city  slept,  pay  unseasonable  calls,  or  glide  through  the 
woods  on  the  outskirts  of  the  capital  at  the  height  of 
some  violent  storm.  Meantime,  the  autos  seemed  to  age, 
as  they  stood  there  motionless,  now  with  their  wheels 
deep  in  the  snow  of  the  courtyard,  and  again  with  the 
glass  of  the  wind  shield  flecked  with  the  tear  drops  of 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  75 

the  slanting  rain,  that  swept  under  the  glass  covered 
porte-cochere.  During  all  such  periods,  Alicia,  in  spite 
of  her  restless  impulsive  nature,  would  be  spending 
whole  days  in  bed,  telling  her  intimate  friends  that  to 
keep  one's  beauty  one  must  take  a  "rest  cure"  from  time 
to  time.  She  would  entertain'her  friends  at  dinner  with- 
out getting  out  of  bed.  The  table  would  be  spread  in 
luxurious  fashion  in  her  large  bedroom,  and  lying  be- 
tween the  sheets,  with  the  dishes  within  reach  on  a  tiny 
table,  she  would  laugh  and  chat  for  hours  with  her 
guests.  Months  would  go  by  without  her  seeing  the  out- 
side of  her  house,  while  the  costly  objects  in  her  rooms, 
amassed  to  indulge  her  whims,  were  quite  forgotten. 
Her  vanity  was  satisfied,  at  such  times,  by  the  mere  fact 
of  having  constructed  a  costly  jewel  case  to  harbor  her 
idleness. 

The  Prince  met  her  in  a  little  reception  room  on  the 
ground  floor.  She  was  in  truth  receiving  him  with  ab- 
solute lack  of  ceremony.  She  was  dressed  in  a  black 
tunic  of  her  own  invention,  a  combination  of  the  Greek 
peplum  and  the  Japanese  kimono.  Her  bare  arms  floated 
free  from  the  soft  silk  that  almost  seemed  to  live,  it 
clung  so  closely  to  her  body.  Underneath  it,  half  re- 
vealed, were  the  contours  and  perfumed  warmth  of  her 
flesh,  hidden  by  no  inner  veils.  Michael  glanced  at  his 
tuxedo  and  gleaming  shirt-front  as  though  his  own  cos- 
tume were  quite  out  of  place. 

As  she  took  him  to  the  elevator,  which  was  white 
and  quilted  like  a  glove  box,  he  caught  a  rapid  glimpse 
of  the  drawing  rooms  of  the  lower  floor,  ostentatious,  but 
left  in  a  shadow  almost  as  dark  as  night;  of  the  large 
dining-hall,  deserted,  with  the  furniture  covered ;  of  the 
little  dining-room  in  which  there  were  no  signs  what- 
soever of  preparations.  .  .  .  Where  was  she  taking  him? 
.  .  .  Was  the  table  set  in  her  bedroom? 


•j^  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  elevator  passed  the  second  floor  without  stopping? 
"We  are  going  to  my  study,"  said  Alicia.  "I  eat  there 
when  I  am  alone." 

The  Prince  was  amazed  at  the  so-called  "study,"  a 
large  room  which  occupied  a  major  portion  of  the  third 
floor,  and  in  which  only  one  or  two  books  in  a  small 
book-rack  were  to  be  seen.  The  place  was  decorated 
in  imitation  "Far  East"  style:  plain  black  lacquer  furni- 
ture, silk  either  of  pale  shades  or  of  an  intense  dark 
purple,  and  an  array  of  frightful  idols.  A  diffused  bluish 
light,  like  that  used  in  night  scenes  on  the  stage,  de- 
scended from  the  ceiling.  A  screen,  embroidered  with  a 
design  in  gold,  formed  a  sort  of  second  more  intimate 
room,  the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  white  rugs  of 
fur,  with  long,  silky  hair.  Heaped  about  were  dozens 
of  pillows  of  various  colors  adorned  with  winged  reptiles 
and  unheard  of  flowers. 

An  exotic,  penetrating  odor  made  Lubimoff  wince.  He 
knew  that  perfume.  And  there  was  a  look  of  severity  in 
his  eyes  as  he  glanced  sharply  at  the  Duchess. 

"Sit  down,"  she  said.    "They  are  going  to  serve  us." 

As  the  Prince  looked  about,  without  seeing  any  sort 
of  a  chair,  Alicia  set  him  an  example,  dropping  on  a 
heap  of  cushions.  Michael  sat  down  in  the  same  fashion, 
beside  a  tiny  mother  of  pearl  table  no  bigger  than  a 
tabouret.  On  it  a  lamp  with  a  dark  shade  let  fall  a  circle 
of  soft  light.  Inwardly  the  Prince  began  to  feel  a  boiling 
of  suppressed  anger  as  he  thought  of  his  evening  wasted. 

"You  must  have  eaten  this  way  often,"  she  continued, 
"you  have  traveled  more  than  I.  The  style  of  decoration 
must  be  familiar  to  you." 

Yes;  he  knew  the  style,  the  original  and  authentic 
style,  and  for  that  very  reason  he  did  not  care  to  see  it 
again  in  imitation.    Besides  obliging  him  to  eat  on  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  r? 

floor,  there  in  a  house  on  the  Avenue  de  Bois  .  .  .  What 
an  affectation ! 

But  in  a  short  time  his  opinion  began  to  change.  A 
poseur  she  undoubtedly  was,  but  affectation  had  already 
become  a  more  or  less  natural  trait  in  her,  a  sort  of 
second  nature.  He  guessed  that  even  in  its  slightest 
details  none  of  this  had  been  prepared  especially  for 
him.  Alicia  lived  and  ate  there  when  she  was  alone  just 
as  she  was  doing  then.  She  was  prey  to  a  desire  to  be 
different  from  other  people  even  when  no  one  was 
noticing  her. 

The  servant  in  charge  of  the  meal  was  a  copper-colored 
man  with  a  long  down-curling  mustache.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  black  tuxedo,  with  a  white  cloth  wrapped  around  his 
legs  like  a  skirt.  He  had  long  hair,  done  up  on  his  head 
like  a  woman's  and  held  in  place  by  a  tortoiseshell  comb. 
The  Asiatic  was  placing  the  huge  trays  containing  the 
food  on  the  floor:  Some  of  the  dishes  were  of  ancient 
hammered  silver,  others  of  many  colored  lacquer,  or  of 
semi-transparent  materials  made  in  imitation  of  emerald, 
topaz,  and  red  sealing  wax. 

For  Michael  the  meal  looked  like  something  a  great 
chef  might  have  prepared  if  he  had  suddenly  gone  mad 
and  made  up  the  dishes  in  the  midst  of  his  ravings.  There 
was  not  a  single  item  that  suggested  the  harmonious 
course  of  an  ordinary  dinner.  The  palate  acted  on  the 
imagination,  awakening  memories  of  distant  travels, 
visions  of  far  off  lands.  Exotic  preserves  alternated  with 
hot  dishes.  Pastry  flavored  with  penetrating  perfumes 
was  served  along  with  sharp,  biting,  or  intensely  bitter 
sauces. 

Alicia,  half  reclining  on  the  cushions,  looking  at  the 
dishes  without  appetite,  extended  her  hand  carelessly  to- 
ward the  most  unusual  delicacies,  and  those  with  the 


78  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

most  pungent  and  racy  savors.  Clearly  the  perversion  of 
her  palate  was  profound.  She  herself  saw  to  it  that 
Michael's  glass  was  always  filled.  It  was  a  drink  of  her 
own  invention,  having  a  champagne  base.  It  burned  and 
rasped  his  mouth,  paralyzing  all  other  sensation  with  its 
stinging  coolness.  It  penetrated  his  nostrils  with  a  linger- 
ing scent  of  the  rarest  flowers  and  of  Asiatic  spices. 

Speaking  of  the  dead  Princess,  Alicia  came  to  mention 
her  own  mother.  They  were  now  on  terms  of  open 
hostility.  Her  eyes  began  to  gleam  with  defiance  as  she 
was  reminded  of  Dona  Mercedes,  confined  in  the  Champ- 
filysee  residence  with  her  court  of  clericals,  and  showing 
herself  in  public  only  for  the  organizing  of  pious  works. 
She  was  trying  to  starve  her  only  daughter  to  death ! 
.  .  .  And  as  Michael  smiled  at  this  explosion  of  anger, 
she  explained  her  grievances. 

"She  gives  me  hardly  anything;  a  mere  nothing:  half 
a  million  francs.  And  I  have  to  hand  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  a  year  over  to  my  husband :  a  rather  ex- 
pensive lover,  whom  I  avoid  seeing.  You  are  really  rich, 
my  dear,  and  don't  understand  such  things.  .  .  .  Since 
the  fortune  is  all  in  her  name,  she  tries  to  starve  me  out 
and  keeps  her  money  to  squander  it  with  the  priests. 
.  .  .  Poor  Sefiora!  She  can't  find  any  admirers  now 
except  that  Monsignor  and  other  sponges  like  him.  .  .  . 
And  I,  her  own  daughter,  have  to  implore  her  like  a  beg- 
gar for  the  crumbs  she  gives  me,  seasoned  with  sermons. 
.  .  .  Oh,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  your  mother!  She  really 
was  a  great  lady :  I  never  lamented  my  poverty  to  her  in 
vain ;  she  gave  me  even  more  than  I  asked  for.  You 
know  of  course  that  I  owe  you  some  money.  A  little. 
...  I  don't  know  how  much.  Didn't  you  really  know 
that?  ...  I  shall  pay  you  back  when  I  get  my  inherit- 
ance." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  79 

And  with  brutal  frankness  she  expounded  her  full 
thought. 

"When  will  that  bigot  leave  me  in  peace?  .  .  .  Old 
people  ought  to  make  way  for  the  young.  What  fun  do 
they  get  out  of  going  on  living?" 

They  had  finished  eating.  She  went  on  filling  both 
their  glasses  with  her  special  drink.  At  first  Michael  had 
found  it  repugnant,  but  in  the  end  he  was  attracted  to 
its  refreshing  fragrance  which  gently  troubled  the  senses, 
like  an  intoxication  with  perfumes. 

"Of  course  you  use  the  pipe,"  said  Alicia  simply. 

He  shook  his  head  and  thought  of  the  odor  which 
struck  him  on  entering.  He  knew  what  sort  of  a  "pipe" 
it  was,  and  gazed  about  the  study.  The  smoking  den 
must  be  in  some  hidden  corner! 

"A  man  like  you!"  she  went  on.  "A  sailor!  And  I 
fooled  myself  into  thinking  we'd  smoke  together!" 

She  even  gave  him  to  understand  that  the  hope  of 
being  able  to  give  him  that  forbidden  pleasure  was  the 
principal  reason  for  her  invitation.  She  became  resigned 
when  she  learned  that  the  Prince,  vigorous  as  he  was, 
suffered  nausea  every  time  he  attempted  to  experiment 
with  that  Asiatic  vice.  And  while  he  lighted  a  havana, 
Alicia  took  from  a  silver  case  the  cigarettes  which  she 
smoked  in  the  presence  of  the  "uninitiated":  Oriental 
tobacco,  but  heavily  dosed  with  opium.  Suddenly  Michael 
was  convinced  of  something  of  which  he  had  a  presenti- 
ment the  moment  he  entered  the  place,  or  even  earlier, 
the  moment  their  glances  had  met  in  the  cemetery.  He 
saw  her  half  rising  from  the  cushions,  with  a  panther- 
like contraction  of  her  muscles,  as  though  she  were  ready 
to  spring  at  him.  It  was  the  concentrated  impulse  of  the 
beast,  beautiful  and  sure  of  its  power,  unable  to  wait, 
and  not  knowing  how  to  feign. 


8o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Alicia  had  forgotten  the  demi-tasse  she  held  in  her 
hand,  as  she  sat  there,  looking  at  him  fixedly.  The  tiny 
blue  electric  spark  dancing  in  her  eyes  was  something 
well  known  to  Michael. 

It  was  the  offering  glance  of  female  silence,  inviting 
violence,  and  mastery.  He  had  encountered  that  glance 
often  along  his  path  of  triumph  as  a  conquering  million- 
aire. .  .  .  He  felt  he  must  say  something  at  once  to 
break  the  silent  charm  of  the  beautiful  witch,  who,  sure 
of  her  final  victory,  was  smiling  and  blowing  puffs  of 
cigarette  smoke  toward  him.  So  Michael  alluded  to  her 
amorous  fame,  to  the  great  number  of  lovers  she  was 
supposed  to  have  had.  That  might  widen  the  distance 
between  them. 

"Ah !  You  too  ?"  said  Alicia  laughing,  with  masculine 
frankness.  *T  don't  suppose  your  morals  are  the  same  as 
Mamma's !  You  are  not  going  to  read  me  a  sermon  on 
my  behavior.  Although,  after  all.  Mamma  doesn't  blame 
me  for  what  I  do.  What  makes  her  angry  is  the  fact 
that  I  am  not  afraid  of  what  people  say,  and  that  some- 
times I  am  attracted  to  unknown  men  of  low  birth.  Poor 
Seiiora!  If  I  were  to  have  an  affair  with  a  king  or  a 
crown  prince,  perhaps  she'd  even  let  us  see  each  other 
in  her  house,  and  have  her  Monsignor  mount  guard  into 
the  bargain." 

She  remained  silent  for  a  moment.  That  disturbing 
glance  was  still  fixed  on  Michael. 

"It  is  true ;  I  have  had  a  lot  of  men.  And  how  about 
you  ?  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  about  your  wanderings 
all  over  the  planet  in  quest  of  types  of  women  unknown 
to  the  novels  and  capable  of  giving  new  sensations  ?  .  .  . 
We  have  both  done  the  same :  only  it  wasn't  necessary  for 
me  to  travel  around  so  much  to  learn  just  what  you  have 
learned.  .  .  .  And  you  are  not  so  absurd  as  to  imagine, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  8i 

as  certain  men  do,  that  our  cases  are  not  to  be  compared 
because  we  are  of  different  sexes." 

The  Prince  listened  silently  as  she  expounded  her  ideas. 
She  was  deeply  in  love  with  life,  and  in  return  she  de- 
manded all  that  life  could  give  her.  .  .  .  The  minds  of 
other  women  were  occupied  with  questions  of  a  material 
nature:  desire  for  wealth,  longings  for  luxury,  domestic 
cares.  ...  As  for  her,  she  possessed  everything;  to- 
morrow held  no  worries  for  her;  not  even  in  regard  to 
her  beauty,  sustained  as  it  was  by  wonderful  health,  and 
seeming  to  increase  in  spite  of  age  and  her  prodigal 
waste  of  energies. 

In  her  life,  made  up  of  caprices,  always  completely 
satisfied,  even  to  the  point  of  satiety,  only  one  thing  in- 
terested her,  from  its  infinite  variety  and  from  its  many 
phases,  which  might  seem  to  vulgar  people  a  monotonous 
repetition  of  one  another,  but  which  in  reality  were  dis- 
tinct for  a  mind  attuned,  as  hers  was,  to  exquisite  sensa- 
tions.    That  thing  was  love. 

"Oh  please  understand  me,  Michael;  don't  sit  there 
laughing  to  yourself.  You  know  me  too  well  ever  to 
imagine  that  I  believe  in  love  as  the  majority  of  women 
do.  I  know  that  a  certain  amount  of  illusion  is  necessary 
to  color  the  material  aspect  of  love ;  we  all  lie  about  it  a 
little,  and  we  enjoy  the  lie  even  though  we  know  it  as 
such;  but  way  down  deep,  I  laugh  at  love  as  the  world 
understands  it,  just  as  I  laugh  at  so  many  things  which 
people  venerate.  ...  I  don't  want  lovers,  I  want  ad- 
mirers. I  am  not  looking  for  love;  I  care  more  for 
adoration." 

She  was  proud  of  her  beauty.  She  spoke  of  Venus  as 
though  the  goddess  were  a  real  person.  She  admired  the 
Olympic  serenity  with  which  the  Deity  of  Passion  gave 
herself  to  gods  and  men,  never  surrendering  her  superior- 


82  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ity  even  at  the  moment  when  she  was  submitting  to  the 
domination  of  the  stronger  sex.  Alicia  considered  her- 
self a  super-beauty,  belonging  to  a  sphere  outside  the 
ordinary  limits  of  vice  and  virtue.  She  thought  herself 
a  living  work  of  art;  and  art  is  neither  moral  nor  im- 
moral ;  its  mission  is  fulfilled  when  it  is  beautiful. 

"Poets,  painters,  and  musicians  seek  to  abandon  them- 
selves to  the  greatest  number  of  admirers.  They  do  their 
utmost  to  enlarge  their  circle  of  pubhc  worshipers  and 
with  feminine  coquetry  they  try  to  attract  new  suitors. 
I  am  like  them.  I  do  not  need  to  create  beauty,  for  as 
they  say,  I  have  it  in  myself.  I  am  my  own  work,  but 
I  love  glory;  I  need  admiration;  and  for  that  reason  I 
give  myself  generously,  content  with  the  happiness  which 
I  apportion,  but  keeping  my  public  at  my  feet,  without 
allowing  myself  to  be  dominated  by  those  whom  I  seek." 

Michael  was  sure  that  many  artists  must  have  left  their 
imprint  on  that  woman's  life.  It  was  evident  in  the 
words  and  imagery  with  which  she  endeavored  to  express 
her  enthusiasm  for  her  own  body.  Her  pride  in  her 
beauty  was  boundless.  What  were  the  ambitions  of 
men,  compared  to  the  satisfaction  of  being  lovely  and  de- 
sired? Only  the  glory  of  warriors,  of  blood-stained  con- 
querors, whose  names  are  known  even  in  the  remotest 
wilds  of  the  earth,  equals  the  glory  that  a  woman  feels 
in  the  sense  of  universal  power  over  men. 

"To  me,"  continued  Alicia,  "the  truest  and  most  beauti- 
ful thing  ever  written  is  'the  old  men  on  the  wall.' " 

The  Prince  looked  at  her  questioningly ;  so  she  went  on 
to  explain.  She  referred  to  the  old  Trojan  men  in  the 
Iliad,  who  were  protesting  against  the  long  siege  of  their 
city,  against  the  blood  sacrifice  of  thousands  of  heroes, 
against  poverty  and  hardship,  all  due  to  the  fault  of  a 
woman.  .  .  .  But  Helen,  majestic  in  her  beauty,  passed 
before  the  old  men,  trailing  her  golden  tunic;  and  they 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  83 

all  lapsed  into  silent  contemplation,  rapt  in  wonder,  as 
though  divine  Aphrodite  had  descended  upon  earth ;  and 
they  murmured  like  a  prayer:  "It  is  indeed  fitting  that 
we  should  suffer  thus  for  her.    So  lovely  she  is !" 

"I  like  to  see  men  suffer  on  my  account.  How  glorious 
if  I  might  be  the  cause  of  a  great  slaughter,  like  that 
ancient  immortal  woman !  .  .  .  I  have  an  exultant  feeling 
of  pride  when  I  notice  that  envy  and  spite  are  whispering 
behind  my  back,  starting  all  that  gossip  that  makes  my 
mother  so  furious.  Only  extraordinary  people  stir  up 
torrents  of  abuse.  .  .  .  And  afterwards,  in  the  drawing 
rooms,  the  very  same  austere  gentlemen  who  have  sec- 
onded all  that  their  wives  and  daughters  have  to  say 
against  me,  look  at  me  with  sly  admiring  glances,  as  I 
pass;  and  some  of  them  blush  in  confusion  and  others 
turn  pale.  It  is  easy  to  guess  that  I  have  only  to  beckon 
and  their  silent  admiration  would.  ...  I  too  have  my 
'old  men  on  the  wall.'  " 

Michael  suddenly  realized  that  while  she  was  talking 
she  had  been  coming  gradually  closer,  from  cushion  to 
cushion  as  she  lay  resting  on  her  elbows.  She  was  almost 
at  his  feet,  with  head  held  high,  endeavoring  to  envelop 
him  in  a  wave  of  magnetism  from  her  fixed  and  dominat- 
ing eyes.  She  seemed  like  a  black  and  white  snake, 
twisting  forward  little  by  little  among  the  cushions  as 
though  they  were  rocks  of  various  colors. 

"The  only  man  of  whom  I  have  ever  thought  the  least 
bit,  the  only  one  I  ever  considered  at  all  different  from 
other  men,"  she  continued  in  a  half  whisper,  "is  you. 
.  .  .  Don't  be  alarmed :  it  isn't  love.  I  am  not  going  to 
invert  roles,  and  propose  to  you.  Perhaps  it  is  because, 
as  children,  we  used  to  hate  each  other;  because  you 
never  wanted  me.  That  is  such  an  unheard  of  thing  in 
my  life,  that  it  alone  is  enough  to  interest  me." 


84  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

She  put  her  hands  on  his  knees,  as  though  she  were 
about  to  rise. 

"When  I  saw  you  in  the  cemetery,  after  so  many  years, 
I  remembered  all  that  I  had  heard  about  you.  Many 
women  whom  I  know  have  been  sweethearts  of  yours, 
and  I  said  to  myself :  Why  not  I,  too  ?  Then  I  thought 
of  all  the  men  who  have  come  into  my  life,  and  I  added : 
Why  not  he?"  .  .  . 

And  now  Alicia's  elbows  were  resting  on  his  knees, 
and  as  the  Prince  was  seated  on  but  two  pillows,  their 
lips  and  eyes  were  almost  on  a  level.  As  she  talked  he 
could  feel  her  breath  on  his  face.  It  was  like  the  breeze 
in  an  Asiatic  forest,  whispering  beneath  the  moon.  The 
spices  and  flowers  with  which  the  wine  was  saturated 
seemed  to  float  in  that  volatile  caress. 

Michael  tried  to  avoid  her  advance,  but  one  of  Alicia's 
hands  was  already  on  his  shoulder.  He  merely  shook  his 
head. 

"Don't  be  afraid,"  she  added,  exaggerating  the  caress- 
ing quality  of  her  sigh.  "There  are  no  embarrassing 
obligations  with  me.  You  may  leave  me  when  you 
wish ;  perhaps  I  shall  be  the  one  to  leave  you  first.  I 
have  wanted  you  for  the  last  few  days.  You  must  surely 
desire  me  as  the  others  do.  .  .  .  Let  us  live  this  moment, 
like  people  who  know  the  secret  of  life  and  all  it  can 
give.  .  .  .  Then  if  we  tire  of  each  other,  good-by,  with 
no  hard  feeling  and  no  pining !" 

When  from  time  to  time  in  after  years  the  Prince 
recalled  that  scene,  he  always  felt  a  certain  dissatisfac- 
tion with  himself.  He  was  sure  he  had  seemed  brutal  as 
well  as  ridiculous.  In  his  travels  he  had  approached 
women  frequently  in  the  most  matter  of  fact  way,  often 
remembering  them  afterwards  with  some  repugnance; 
yet  here  he  was,  rebelling  with  a  feeling  of  oflFended 
modesty  at  the  advances  of  the  Duchess.     No!     With 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  85 

her,  never!  Rising  within  him  he  felt  the  same  displeas- 
ure that  had  once  made  him  raise  his  whip  in  his  youth. 

He  found  himself  on  his  feet  in  the  middle  of  the 
study,  looking  anxiously  toward  the  door  and  muttering 
stupid  excuses.  "No,  I  must  go:  it  is  late.  Some  friends 
are  waiting  for  me.  .  .  ."  She  had  gained  control  of 
herself.  She  too  was  standing  looking  at  him  with  aston- 
ishment and  wrath. 

"You  are  the  only  one  who  could  do  a  thing  like  this," 
she  said,  in  a  cutting  tone,  as  they  parted.  "I  see  it  all 
clearly  now.  I  hate  you  as  you  hate  me.  My  whim  was 
a  stupid  one.  You  have  permitted  yourself  a  liberty 
which  no  one  in  the  world  will  ever  be  able  to  take  again. 
If  I  were  younger  than  I  am  I  would  thrash  you  again 
as  I  did  in  the  Bois ;  but  instead,  just  consider  that  I  am 
repeating  everything  I  said  then." 

They  did  not  see  each  other  again. 

When  the  Prince  had  set  in  order  everything  con- 
cerning the  inheritance  from  his  mother,  he  thought  of 
resuming  his  voyages,  but  on  a  more  magnificent  scale. 
It  was  no  longer  necessary  for  him  to  ask  the  Princess 
for  money.  He  was  one  of  the  great  milHonaires  of  the 
world.  Those  who  were  in  charge  of  the  administration 
of  his  affairs — an  office  with  numerous  clerks,  almost 
equalling  the  government  bureau  of  a  small  state — made 
the  announcement  that  the  fifteen  million  francs  which 
the  Princess  had  received  annually  would  soon  be  twenty, 
through  the  development  of  Russian  railways,  which 
allowed  more  intensive  working  of  his  mines. 

The  Colonel  was  commissioned  to  have  the  heavy 
medieval  walls  of  Villa  Sirena  torn  down,  and  the  place 
replanned  according  to  the  Prince's  tastes.  The  latter 
hated  architectural  resuscitations.  He  could  not  bear 
modern  buildings  patterned  to  flatter  the  pride  of  the  rich 
proprietors,  after  the  Alhambra,  the  palaces  of  Florence, 


86  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

or  the  solemn  and  orderly  constructions  of  Versailles. 

"The  furniture  ought  to  correspond  to  the  period," 
said  Michael,  "and  people  ought  to  live  in  such  houses 
as  they  lived  in  in  the  century  which  produced  that  par- 
ticular style.  People  living  in  an  ancient  house  ought 
to  dress  and  eat  as  in  former  times.  .  .  .  What  an  ab- 
surdity to  reconstruct  those  historic  shells,  with  the  in- 
terior arranged  to  suit  the  needs  of  modern  men  who 
are  forced  to  commit  an  anachronism  at  every  step !" 

He  recalled  the  project  of  a  millionaire  friend  of  his, 
a  member  of  the  Institute,  who  had  built  a  Roman  house 
on  the  Riviera,  Roman  in  all  the  exactness  of  its  details. 
At  the  house-warming  the  guests  were  obliged  to  sleep  on 
corded  beds  and  to  eat  reclining  on  couches ;  and  even 
more  intimate  conveniences  were  modeled  on  the  principle 
of  hygiene  known  to  the  ancient  Caesars.  Within  twenty- 
four  hours  they  all  pretended  they  had  received  urgent 
telegrams  calling  them  to  Paris,  and  the  owner  himself 
after  a  few  months,  left  his  house  in  charge  of  a  keeper 
to  show  to  tourists  as  ct  museum. 

Michael  was  fond  of  modern  architecture,  whose  cathe- 
drals are  machine  shops  and  large  railway  stations.  Ap- 
plied to  dwellings  it  pleased  him  for  its  lack  of  style: 
white  walls,  a  few  moldings,  rounded  corners,  with  no 
angles  whatsoever,  so  that  the  dust  might  be  pursued  to 
its  remotest  hiding  places,  wide  openings  letting  in  the 
breeze  and  the  sunlight,  double  walls  between  which 
hot  or  cold  air,  and  water  at  various  temperatures,  could 
circulate. 

"Up  to  the  present  time,"  the  Prince  asserted,  "man  has 
lived  in  magnificent  jewel  cases  of  art  and  filth.  Modern 
architects  have  done  more  in  the  last  thirty  years  to 
make  life  pleasant  than  the  artist-builders,  so  much  ad- 
mired by  history,  did  in  three  thousand.  They  have 
declared  running  water  and  the  bath-room  as  indispensa- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  87 

ble,  things  which  were  unknown  to  kings  themselves  half 
a  century  ago.  They  have  invented  the  furnace  and  the 
water  closet.  Don't  talk  to  me  about  the  magnificent 
palaces  of  Versailles,  where  there  was  not  a  single  toilet, 
and  where  every  morning  the  lackeys  were  obliged  to 
empty  two  hundred  vessels  for  the  king  and  his  courtiers. 
Often  to  be  through  quicker,  they  threw  their  contents 
out  of  the  majestic  windows,  and  sometimes  it  would  fall 
on  the  sedan  chair  and  the  retinue  of  a  Dauphine  or  an 
ambassador." 

Toledo  applied  himself  to  supervising  the  construction 
of  Villa  Sirena  in  accordance  with  the  desires  of  the 
Prince,  making  it  a  plain  white  building,  and  without  any 
definite  style  of  architecture.  Lubimoff  himself,  at  the 
proper  time,  would  take  charge  of  the  artistic  touches, 
placing  famous  pictures,  statues,  tapestries,  or  rugs,  just 
where  they  would  be  most  pleasing  to  the  eye.  The  house 
was  to  be  a  harmony  of  simple,  pure  lines.  The  walls 
were  to  have  heating  and  cooling  systems  for  the  differ- 
ent seasons,  and  running  water  was  to  be  available  in 
abundance  everywhere.  Each  room  was  to  have  its 
electric  lights  and  its  electric  fan. 

The  Prince  found  it  a  much  easier  task  to  make  over 
his  wandering  ocean  residence.  He  simply  sold  the 
Gavioick,  which  reminded  him  of  his  youthful  dependence 
on  his  family,  and  went  to  the  United  States  to  look 
into  an  advertisement.  Three  years  before  a  certain 
multimillionaire  had  begun  the  construction  of  a  yacht, 
designed  to  be  more  luxurious  and  of  greater  tonnage 
than  that  of  any  European  sovereign.  As  the  American 
was  about  to  witness  the  consummation  of  this  triumph 
of  the  democratic  kings  of  industry  over  the  historic 
kings  of  the  Old  World,  he  was  killed  in  an  automobile 
accident,  and  his  heirs  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  the 
leviathan  which  would  only  be  of  use  to  an  immensely 


88  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

rich,  and,  in  their  opinion,  somewhat  crazy  traveler.  They 
were  thinking  of  selling  it  at  a  loss  to  the  Kaiser,  Wil- 
liam II,  having  decided  finally  to  endure  his  demands  as  a 
sharp  business  man,  when  Prince  Lubimoflf  appeared.  A 
week  later  on  the  white  stem  and  bows  of  the  yacht  a 
new  name  in  gold  letters  was  displayed,  a  name  that  was 
repeated  in  addition  on  the  life  preservers  and  on  the 
various  tenders,  the  dingies,  the  steam  launches,  and  the 
motor  boats.  The  American  yacht  had  become  the 
Gaviota  II. 

It  had  the  tonnage  of  a  small  trans-Atlantic  liner  and 
the  speed  of  a  torpedo  boat.  Each  day  the  wealth  of  an 
ordinary  man  went  up  in  smoke  through  the  Gaviota  II's 
double  funnels.  During  a  trip  to  some  distant  island, 
the  supply  of  coal  gave  out.  Immediately  a  collier  char- 
tered by  the  Prince,  came  to  meet  the  Gaviota  II  in  the 
farthest  seas  to  fill  the  bunkers  with  fuel. 

Quiet  harbors  came  to  be  illuminated  at  night,  as 
though  the  sun  had  risen.  When  the  Prince  gave  a  fete, 
the  ship  would  be  a  blaze  of  glory  from  the  water  to  the 
mastheads,  its  outline  marked  by  electric  bulbs  of  various 
colors,  while  powerful  searchlights  shot  out  movable 
streams  of  radiance  and  drew  the  waves,  the  shores,  and 
rows  of  city  houses  from  the  depths  of  the  darkness.  At 
other  times,  the  white  fire  of  the  Gaviota  II's  monstrous 
eyes  would  flash  on  walls  of  ice  towering  to  the  clouds, 
and  seals,  penguins,  and  polar  bears  would  waken  from 
sleep  frightened  by  the  strange  luminous,  puffing  monster 
that  darted  off  like  lightning  into  the  mystery  of  night. 

To  be  the  owner  of  a  floating  palace  which,  when 
anchoring  off  large  cities,  drew  such  crowds  of  sightseers 
as  rare  spectacles  only  attract,  was  not  enough  for 
Michael  Fedor.  So  he  created  something  more  interest- 
ing even  than  the  luxurious  salons,  and  the  refinements 
of  comfort  of  the  Gaviota  II:  he  built  up  an  orchestra. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  89 

Sensuous  delight  in  music  was  for  him  the  most  ex- 
quisite of  emotions.  When  his  ears  were  satiated  with 
the  sweetness  and  melody  of  traditional  music,  he  sought 
unknown  and  often  bizarre  composers,  who  aroused  his 
curiosity;  but  he  always  came  back  to  demanding  as  the 
pieces  de  resistance  of  his  harmonic  feasts,  the  masters 
who  had  been  his  first  love,  and  above  all,  Beethoven. 

Treated  as  though  they  were  officers,  paid  to  their 
liking,  and  with  the  added  inducement  of  being  able  to  see 
a  great  deal  of  the  world,  musicians  from  every  country 
offered  their  services  to  the  yacht's. orchestra.  Famous 
concert  players  and  young  composers  came  in  as  mere 
instrumentalists.  Some  were  ill,  and  sought  to  regain 
their  health  in  a  voyage  around  the  world  in  real  luxury 
and  without  expense;  others  embarked  through  love  of 
adventure,  to  see  new  lands  in  this  floating  castle,  in 
which  everything  seemed  organized  for  an  eternal  holi- 
day.   There  were  never  less  than  fifty  of  them. 

"My  orchestra  is  the  finest  in  the  world,"  the  Prince 
would  proudly  say  when  his  guests  complimented  him 
after  one  of  the  concerts  his  musicians  gave  at  rare  in- 
tervals on  land. 

In  tropical  nights,  beneath  the  enormous  honey-colored 
moon  changing  the  sea  to  a  vast  plain  of  quick-silver, 
the  musicians,  seated  in  evening  clothes  before  the  rows 
of  music  racks  illuminated  by  tiny  electric  lights,  would 
weave  on  the  quiet  air,  which  seemed  to  have  retained 
the  first  faint  cries  of  the  planet  at  its  birth,  the  most 
original  melodies,  the  most  subtle  combination  of  sounds 
that  the  sublime  rapture  of  artists  in  god-like  inspiration 
ever  created.  The  music  floated  out  behind  the  boat  in 
the  mystery  of  the  ocean,  like  a  scarf  unfolding,  breaking 
and  scattering  in  fragments,  with  the  smoke  of  the  fun- 
nels. When  the  orchestra  paused  one  could  hear  the 
distant  subdued  beat  of  the  propellers,  churning  the  foam 


90  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

with  a  humming  sound ;  and  then  from  time  to  time  the 
slow  tolling  of  the  bell  calling  the  men  on  watch,  or  the 
cry  of  the  lookout  snuggled  into  the  crow's  nest  on  the 
mainmast,  reporting  his  vigilance  with  the  rhythmic  in- 
tonation of  a  muezzin  from  a  minaret.  And  the  monot- 
onous music  of  the  sea  gave  an  impression  of  night, 
and  of  immensity,  to  the  music  of  man. 

At  the  foot  of  the  companionways,  or  on  the  outjutting 
parts  of  the  lower  decks,  the  various  officers  and  officials 
of  the  Prince  gathered  to  hear  the  concert  in  the  night. 
On  the  prow  the  sailors  squatted,  listening  to  the  music 
in  religious  silence,  as  is  often  the  case  with  simple  men 
when  confronted  with  something  they  do  not  understand, 
but  which  inspires  awe.  Aft,  the  only  listener  would  be 
Michael  Fedor,  standing  at  a  distance  from  the  music, 
and  with  his  back  toward  the  musicians,  watching  at  his 
feet,  the  divided,  foaming  waters  which  rushed  by  like 
a  double  river  far  out  and  away  from  the  boat.  As 
occasionally  he  raised  his  cigar  to  his  lips,  his  pensive 
features  would  appear  for  a  moment  in  the  darkness, 
lighted  by  the  red  glow. 

The  yacht  held  another  more  silent  group.  Those  who 
succeeded  in  getting  on  board  in  the  ports  always  ob- 
tained a  distant  glimpse  of  a  woman  or  two  with  white 
shoes,  blue  skirts,  jackets  with  rows  of  gold  buttons, 
masculine  collars  and  neckties,  and  officers'  caps.  No 
one  knew  for  certain  how  many  such  women  there  may 
have  been.  The  men  of  the  crew  were  forbidden  access 
to  the  central  quarters  of  the  boat,  and  to  the  upper  deck. 
Some  of  them,  chancing  to  break  the  rule  through  over- 
sight, had  met  the  Prince's  companions  attired  in  elegant 
naval  uniforms,  or  more  lightly  clad,  like  dancers,  in 
elaborate  and  exotic  costumes.  At  the  large  ports,  steam 
launches  landed  these  mysterious  and  beautiful  travelers 
for  a  few  hours  on  shore.    It  was  remarked  that  they 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  91 

dressed  with  modest  elegance  and  that  they  would  speak 
various  languages. 

When  the  Gaznota  II  returned  and  anchored  in  the 
same  harbor  she  had  visited  the  preceding  year,  those 
whose  curiosity  had  been  aroused  found  that  the  per- 
sonnel of  the  wandering  harem  had  been  completely  re- 
newed. They  might  occasionally  recognize  one  or  two 
of  the  former  ladies,  but  now  their  faces  wore  the  placid 
expression  of  the  odalisque  who  has  been  supplanted, 
but  is  nevertheless  contented  with  luxury  and  oblivion. 

Some  years  Michael  Fedor  suspended  his  travels,  dur- 
ing the  summer,  to  take  up  his  abode  at  fashionable 
beaches.  The  women  who  accompanied  him  on  his 
long  voyages  remained  on  board,  with  all  the  lavish  com- 
forts to  which  they  were  accustomed.  At  other  times 
he  parted  with  them,  as  one  dismisses  a  crew  when  a  ship 
goes  out  of  commission,  at  the  end  of  a  trip. 

Immediately  he  became  interested  in  women  living 
stay-at-home  lives,  in  shore  society,  and  in  summer  flirta- 
tions at  famous  watering  places.  He  would  take  up  his 
abode  in  a  hotel  on  the  coast,  while  his  yacht  was  to  be 
seen  rising  from  the  azure  waters,  motionless,  like  a 
palace  of  mystery  and  magnificence,  the  center  of  all 
feminine  imaginings. 

Living  in  Biarritz  he  came  to  know  Atilio  Castro  inti- 
mately through  learning  that  they  were  related  on  his 
father's  side.  The  .Spaniard  admired  the  fascination  ex- 
ercised by  the  Prince,  often  without  wishing  to  do  so,  on 
all  women. 

Never  at  any  period  had  women  been  more  strongly 
attracted  by  luxury  or  felt  less  scruples  in  the  means  of 
obtaining  it  than  at  present.  This  was  the  opinion  of 
Castro.  Lavish  display,  which  in  other  centuries  had 
been  within  reach  of  only  the  very  few  families,  was 
now  possible  for  every  one.    AH  one  needed  to  indulge 


92  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

in  it  was  money.  Besides,  it  was  necessary  to  take  into 
account  present-day  progress  in  material  things,  which 
has  made  life  easier,  but  at  the  same  time  has  increased 
our  needs. 

"The  motor  car  and  the  pearl  necklace  have  made 
more  victims  than  the  wars  of  Napoleon,"  said  Atilio. 

''These  two  things  are  like  the  gala  uniform  of  women, 
and  those  who  are  forced  to  go  without  them  consider 
themselves  unfortunate  and  ill  treated  by  fate.  This  twin 
image  has  shattered  the  illusions  of  maidens  and  the 
fidelity  of  wives.  Mothers  in  middle  class  society,  with 
melancholy  dejection  written  on  their  faces  as  though 
they  had  made  stupid  failures  of  their  lives,  advise  their 
daughters :  *If  you  are  going  to  get  married,  make  sure 
you  will  get  an  auto  and  a  pearl  necklace.'  And  long 
after  the  modest  marriage  this  desire  still  remains, 
strengthened  by  maternal  advice.  Luxury  is  the  one 
thought,  luxury  at  whatever  cost.  Luxury  has  been 
democratized.  It  is  within  reach  of  all,  obtainable 
through  money,  which  has  no  taint,  no  odor,  no  sign  of 
its  origin." 

"You  are  the  great  provider  of  the  expensive  motor 
car  of  fashionable  make  and  of  the  rope  of  pearls,"  con- 
tinued Castro.  "You  are  the  great  Sultan  of  magnifi- 
cence. Your  signature  to  a  check  is  enough  to  sweep  a 
woman  oflf  her  feet  in  a  torrent  of  gold.  Make  the  most 
of  your  opportunity!  The  period  in  which  you  were 
born  has  left  you  an  open  field  for  your  talents." 

And  the  Prince,  who  was  not  at  all  in  need  of  such 
advice,  went  his  way  as  conqueror  through  a  world  in 
which  the  best  accredited  virtues  collapsed  before  his 
attack.  Even  sincere  resistance  finally  appeared  to  him 
to  be  a  clever  device  for  postponing  surrender  and  in- 
creasing the  market  value  of  desire.  The  millions  from 
Russia  were  scattered  broadcast  in  smaller  and  smaller 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  93 

subdivisions,  maintaining  the  well  being  and  display  of 
many  homes,  indulging  the  taste  for  luxury  of  numerous 
ladies,  and  keeping  numberless  factories  busy  producing 
elegant  novelties  of  female  luxury.  A  few  women  felt 
a  sincere  interest  in  Michael  Fedor  for  his  own  sake, 
because  of  the  mysterious  prestige  of  his  voyages  in  a 
boat  which  was  talked  about  as  though  it  were  an  en- 
chanted palace;  and  also  because  of  his  adventures  with 
celebrated  actresses  and  women  of  high  society,  which 
made  him  more  attractive.  But  once  their  vanity  and 
curiosity  were  satisfied,  they  allowed  their  own  self- 
interest  to  have  a  word,  "Why  should  I  be  any  more 
altruistic  than  the  rest?" 

They  were  not  obliged  to  use  cunning  or  round-about 
phrases  in  formulating  their  requests.  Some  at  the  sec- 
ond meeting,  took  on  a  melancholy  air,  and  spoke  of  the 
sad  realities  of  life.  But  the  generous  Prince  anticipated 
their  desires.  He  preferred  to  pay  his  mistresses  and 
dazzle  them  with  splendid  gifts.  Thus  he  could  regard 
them  as  favored  slaves  covered  with  jewels.  In  this  way 
also,  it  was  easier  to  break  with  them:  He  could  go 
away  from  them  whenever  he  so  desired,  satisfied  with 
his  own  behavior,  and  quite  unmoved  by  their  tears  and 
laments.  From  his  semi-oriental  Russian  ancestors  he 
had  inherited  a  great  sensual  capacity,  which  caused  him 
to  be  attracted  to  women,  and  at  the  same  time  to  feel 
an  inalterable  scorn  for  them.  He  indulged  them  but 
could  not  love  them ;  he  adored  them,  but  was  stirred  to 
indignation  when  they  presumed  to  be  on  terms  of 
equality  with  him.  He  was  capable  of  ruining  himself, 
of  braving  death  for  them,  but  he  was  ready  to  thrust 
them  aside  with  his  foot  if  they  tried  in  the  least  to 
govern  his  life.  The  ambitious  ones  who  feigned  deep, 
passionate  love  for  him  in  the  hope  of  marriage,  the 
sentimental  ones  who  tried  to  interest  him  with  psycho- 


94  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

logical  subtleties,  and  those  who  kept  their  maternal  en- 
thusiasm even  in  adultery,  and  murmured  in  his  ear  how 
happy  they  would  be  to  have  a  child  who  might  re- 
semble him,  waited  for  him  in  vain  the  following  day^ 
"Neither  deep  passion,  nor  children !"  .  .  .  Two  trails  of 
smoke  were  soon  rising  from  the  yacht,  carrying  its  owner 
to  another  port  or  perhaps  to  another  continent:  or  if 
he  wished  to  flee  from  a  city  in  the  interior,  he  gave 
orders  that  his  private  car  should  be  coupled  to  the  first 
train  that  was  leaving. 

These  flights  were  never  undertaken  without  a  gener- 
ous remembrance.  Michael  Fedor's  munificence  con- 
tinued for  those  whom  he  had  abandoned.  Each  year 
new  names  were  added  to  his  budget,  like  that  of  a  reign- 
ing house  which  allots  pensions  to  its  forgotten  servants. 
But  the  pensions  of  Prince  LubimoflF  were  for  the  main- 
tenance of  luxury  and  not  of  life.  The  most  modest 
were  over  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year.  The  average 
was  double  that  amount. 

"Your  Excellency:  there  will  have  to  be  a  revision," 
his  administrator  would  say. 

Michael  would  examine  the  list  of  names,  hesitating  at 
a  few.  He  could  not  recall  clearly  the  persons  who  bore 
them.  Then  suddenly  he  would  smile,  as  certain  visions 
were  suddenly  and  attractively  awakened  in  his  mind. 
He  was  immensely  wealthy :  why  not  keep  up  the  luxury 
which  was  the  one  dream  of  all  of  them?  .  .  .  He  was 
not  disturbed  by  the  jealous  thought  that  his  successors 
would  be  reaping  the  benefit  of  that  luxury. 

He  felt  a  certain  god-like  pride  in  making  his  gener- 
osity felt  at  all  times,  without  letting  himself  be  seen. 
In  Paris  a  jewelry  shop  managed  by  a  Jew  of  Spanish 
origin  limited  its  entire  business  to  the  production  of  the. 
Prince's  gifts.  His  gems  of  high  intrinsic  value,  with 
no  false  artifices,  had  a  certain  family  resemblance,  a 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  95 

sort  of  imaginary  perfume  which  enabled  the  women 
who  displayed  them  to  recognize  each  other.  When  it 
was  least  expected,  at  tea  time,  in  the  dining-room  of  a 
hotel,  at  an  elegant  watering  place  at  a  dance,  two  women 
who  had  just  met  would  gaze  at  each  other's  ears  and 
breast  in  silence,  until  the  boldest,  blushing  imperceptibly 
under  her  rouge,  would  ask  simply :  "You  knew  Prince 
Lubimoff  too?  .  .  ." 

Atilio  Castro  felt  a  deep  admiration  for  his  relative, 
less  on  account  of  his  triumphs  than  of  the  iron  con- 
stitution required  to  sustain  them. 

"What  a  Cossack!  A  regular  Cossack!  .  .  .  He  is  a 
true  descendant  of  that  lover  of  the  Great  Catherine !" 

Nevertheless,  frequently  the  yacht  would  hurriedly  put 
out  to  sea  on  long  voyages^  without  its  master  being 
forced  to  flee  from  any  dangerous  or  entangling  passion. 
He  was  running  away  from  himself,  from  his  perverse 
imagination  and  curiosity,  which  made  him  seek  and 
allure  different  women,  upsetting  his  peace  of  mind, 
without  rousing  in  him  any  real  desire.  He  undertook 
the  most  extraordinary  voyages,  for  the  sake  of  the 
bracing  air  and  the  sense  of  restfulness  the  sea  brings. 
The  orchestra  accompanied  him;  but  the  "harem"  re- 
mained on  shore.  He  had  gone  completely  around  the 
globe,  following  the  shortest  route ;  then  he  had  repeated 
this  circumnavigation,  but  over  a  zig-zag  course,  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  all  the  coasts  of  the  earth.  At 
present  he  was  on  going  on  whimsical  trips ;  he  was  sail- 
ing from  one  hemisphere  to  another  for  the  pleasure  of 
visiting  one  or  another  of  the  small  islands  which  seem 
lost  in  the  Pacific,  and  are  so  tiny  that  on  the  maps  they 
look  like  mere  dots  placed  after  long  names  traced  on 
the  blue  colored  surface. 

Returning  from  one  of  these  excursions  on  which  he 
went  around  the  world  as  though  it  were  his  personal 


96  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

property,  he  received  by  wireless  the  news  that  Germany 
had  declared  war  against  Russia  and  France. 

He  felt  no  great  surprise.  He  knew  William  H  per- 
sonally. It  was  because  of  him  that  Prince  Lubimoff 
avoided  cruising  off  the  coast  of  Norway  in  summer. 

The  year  following  his  acquisition  of  the  Gaviota  11 
he  had  come  across  the  Imperial  yacht  in  those  parts. 
The  Kaiser,  like  an  officious,  all-knowing  neighbor,  came 
to  see  him  in  order  to  look  over  the  yacht,  examining  it  in 
all  its  details,  giving  advice,  reviewing  the  men  and  ma- 
terials, making  a  dissertation  on  the  engines  and  in- 
terrupting himself  to  advise  certain  changes  in  the  uni- 
form of  the  crew.  After  a  breakfast  on  his  own  yacht, 
and  luncheon  on  the  Emperor's,  Prince  Michael  had  had 
enough  of  this  unexpected  friendship.  Lohengrin,  with 
his  winged  helmet,  white  mantle,  and  both  hands  on  the 
hilt  of  his  sword,  was  less  unbearable  than  this  gentleman 
with  turned  up  mustache,  and  wolfish  teeth,  dressed 
like  a  sailor,  who  laughed  a  false  and  brutal  laugh,  and 
(whenever  he  met  on  the  seas  a  multimillionaire  from 
America  or  Europe)  played  the  role  of  a  man  of  great 
simplicity  and  of  an  unconventional  sovereign.  Money 
inspired  deep  veneration  in  this  story-book  hero,  this 
mystic  with  a  mind  fed  on  grandeur.  Michael  had  never 
shared  the  enthusiasm  of  various  snobs  for  the  German 
Emperor.  He  smiled  at  the  Hohenzollern's  theatrical 
tastes,  his  war-like  bravadoes,  and  his  intellectual  ambi- 
tions which  pretended  to  embrace  the  whole  knowable 
universe. 

"He  is  a  comedian,"  Michael  said  on  receiving  the 
news  of  the  war,  "a  comedian  who  for  a  long  time  is 
going  to  make  the  whole  world  weep.  .  ,  .  And  to  think 
that  the  fate  of  mankind  should  depend  on  such  a 
man!  .  .  ." 

Michael  Fedor  considered  himself  as  a  being  set  apart 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  97 

from  the  rest  of  mankind.  He  lamented  the  war  as  some- 
thing terrible  for  the  rest,  but  which  could  not  influence 
his  own  particular  fate.  Since  a  madness  for  blood  had 
descended  upon  Europe,  he  would  go  on  sailing  distant 
seas.  Thanks  to  his  wealth  he  could  keep  beyond  the 
margins  of  the  struggle. 

But  times  changed  rapidly ;  life  was  not  the  same :  all 
old  values  had  lost  their  significance.  In  spite  of  her 
Russian  flag,  the  Gaviota  II  found  herself  halted  by  some 
English  torpedo  boats  and  was  forced  to  submit  to  a 
minute  inspection.  They  could  not  believe  that  any  one 
should  be  cruising  for  pleasure  when  all  the  seas  had 
been  converted  into  a  battlefield.  In  the  latitude  of  the 
Azores  it  became  necessary  to  force  the  yacht's  engines 
to  escape  from  a  German  corsair. 

Besides,  fuel  was  getting  scarce.  The  various  coaling 
stations  located  here  and  there  on  the  coast  were  re- 
served exclusively  for  the  warships.  Important  news  kept 
coming  by  wireless  from  far-oflf  Paris,  where  the  chief 
agent  of  the  Prince  was  located.  Communication  had 
been  broken  off  between  the  Paris  office  and  the  adminis- 
trators of  the  Lubimoff  fortune  in  Russia.  No  money 
was  coming  from  there,  and  the  French  banks,  with  their 
vaults  closed  by  the  moratorium,  were  willing  secretly  to 
lend  money  to  a  millionaire  like  the  Prince,  but  not  in 
quantities  sufficient  to  meet  his  current  needs. 

The  yacht  came  to  anchor  in  the  port  of  Monaco,  and 
Michael  Fedor,  on  arriving  in  Paris,  almost  laughed,  as 
though  witnessing  some  preposterous  change  in  the  laws 
of  nature.  The  heir  of  the  Lubimoffs  in  need  of  money, 
and  compelled  to  make  an  effort  to  obtain  it — something 
he  had  never  done  in  all  his  life !  Here  he  was  having  to 
ask  for  loans  at  frightfully  usurious  rates,  on  the  security 
of  his  distant  and  famous  wealth,  which  for  the  first 
time  was  regarded  somewhat  contemptuously!  .  .  . 


98  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

When  communications  were  reestablished  in  an  inter- 
mittent fashion  between  Western  Europe  and  Russia— 
which  was  practically  isolated — the  administrator  of  the 
Prince  gave  a  look  of  despair.  The  collections  had  been 
reduced  eighty  per  cent. 

"According  to  that,  I  am  going  to  be  poor?"  asked 
Lubimoff,  laughing,  the  news  seemed  so  unbelievable  and 
absurd. 

It  was  very  difficult  to  send  money  as  far  as  Paris. 
Besides  the  rouble  was  decreasing  in  value  at  a  dizzy 
rate.  Millions  on  reaching  France  became  mere  hun- 
dred thousands.  Mobilization  had  left  the  mines  without 
workmen;  there  was  no  outlet  for  the  produce;  the 
peasants,  seeing  their  sons  in  the  army,  refused  to  pay 
any  money,  and  even  to  work.  The  Russian  government, 
to  keep  as  much  money  as  possible  at  home,  limited  to 
small  amounts  the  money  sent  to  citizens  residing  abroad. 

"The  Czar  putting  me  on  a  pension !"  said  the  Prince 
in  amazement.  "A  thousand  or  two  thousand  francs  a 
month!  .  .  .  How  absurd!" 

But  he  did  not  laugh  long.  His  anger  against  the 
Russian  court,  which  had  gradually  been  growing  in  his 
subconsciousness  ever  since  his  expulsion  so  long  ago 
from  Petersburg,  now  moved  by  a  selfish  impulse  sud- 
denly flared  up.  The  Czar  and  his  counselors,  desirous 
of  Russianizing  all  Eastern  Europe,  were  responsible  for 
the  war.  They  certainly  might  have  kept  peace  with 
Germany.  Why  disturb  the  peace  of  the  world,  for  the 
sake  of  a  little  race  of  people  in  the  Balkans? 

He  coolly  made  fun  of  certain  of  his  friends  who,  by 
devious  routes  across  Europe  and  the  icy  Northern  seas, 
returned  to  Russia  to  regain  their  former  commissions  in 
the  army.  As  for  him,  he  had  no  desire  to  die  for  the 
Czar.    It  made  little  difference  to  him  whether  his  coun- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  99 

try  were  governed  by  Germans.  There  were  times  when 
he  even  thought  that  would  be  preferable,  so  long  as 
peace  were  restored  rapidly,  allowing  him  once  more  to 
reap  the  benefit  of  his  wealth,  and  resume  the  life  he  had 
been  leading  a  few  months  before,  or,  as  it  now  seemed, 
a  half  century  before. 

The  next  two  years  went  by  for  Lubimoff  like  a  night- 
mare. What  sort  of  a  world  was  he  living  in?  .  .  .  His 
former  friends  were  disappearing.  Some  of  the  frivolous 
women  who  had  made  life  pleasant  for  him  were  not 
moved  in  the  least  by  the  unfortunate  events  which  were 
happening;  but  others  showed  themselves  to  be  heroic 
and  self-sacrificing,  forgetting  all  they  had  done  before, 
feeling  a  new  soul  developing  within  them. 

The  Prince  suddenly  found  himself  dragged  along  by 
the  world  happenings.  A  mysterious  and  irresistible  force 
was  pushing  against  him,  causing  him  to  lose  his  balance, 
just  as  he  was  reaching  the  pinnacle  of  his  life,  so 
pleasant,  so  vast,  crowned  with  a  halo  of  such  glory. 
And  now,  once  started,  he  was  tumbling  head  over  heels, 
of  his  own  inertia,  and  each  step  he  struck  as  he  de- 
scended, gave  him  a  harder  blow,  a  more  painful  sur- 
prise. How  far  would  this  landslide  take  him?  .  .  . 
What  would  he  strike  at  the  end  of  this  unheard-of 
fall?  .  .  . 

His  interviews  with  his  Paris  administrator  seemed  to 
him  like  something  taking  place  in  another  world,  sub- 
ject to  ridiculous  laws.  These  conferences  always  ended 
with  the  same  order  on  his  part: 

"Try  and  get  some  money.  Ask  for  a  loan.  ...  I  am 
Prince  Lubimoff,  and  this  cannot  last.  Whoever  wins — 
it  is  all  the  same  to  me — order  will  be  reestablished,  and 
I  shall  pay  my  creditors  immediately." 

But  the  administrator  answered,  with  a  look  of  dis- 
may :    "Raise  money  on  property  in  Russia  ?  .  .  ."    Tak- 


loo  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ing  advantage  of  the  former  prestige  of  the  Prince,  he 
had  been  able  to  negotiate  various  loans;  but  time  was 
passing  and  the  enormous  interest  was  accumulating. 
Lubimoff  in  spite  of  cutting  down  expenses  and  doing 
away  with  pensions,  was  in  need  of  money  for  his  cur- 
rent living  expenses. 

The  fall  of  the  Czar  gave  a  ray  of  hope  to  this  magnate 
who  hated  the  Imperial  government.  "With  the  Republic 
the  war  will  be  over  sooner  and  we  shall  come  back  to 
the  proper  order  of  things."  His  egoism  made  him  con- 
ceive of  a  Republic  as  a  form  of  government  occupied 
chiefly  with  restoring  the  wealth  of  beings  of  fortunate 
birth.  The  meager  shreds  of  his  fortune  which  now 
and  then  still  got  as  far  as  Paris  were  suddenly  cut  oflf. 
The  fountain  of  wealth  was  dry.  The  crumbling  of  a 
whole  world  had  dammed  its  source,  and  perhaps  forever. 

"Your  Excellency  must  sell,"  the  administrator  was 
always  saying.  "You  must  do  without  everything  that 
is  superfluous.  We  must  liquidate  in  time.  Who  knows 
how  long  the  present  state  of  aflFairs  may  last !" 

The  yacht  was  lying  idle  in  Monaco  harbor.  Almost 
the  entire  crew,  composed  of  Italians,  Frenchmen,  and 
Englishmen,  had  left  it  to  go  and  serve  in  the  navies  of 
their  respective  nations.  Only  a  few  Spaniards  remained 
on  board,  to  keep  the  boat  clean. 

The  Gaviota  II  was  renamed  by  the  English  admiralty, 
and  turned  over  to  the  Red  Cross.  When  he  signed  the 
bill  of  sale,  Michael  Fedor  felt  that  he  was  giving  up 
his  whole  past.  The  romantic  prestige  of  his  mode  of 
life  was  vanishing  now  for  all  time ;  the  Arabian  Nights 
palace  was  being  converted  into  a  hospital  ship.  .  .  . 
What  a  world ! 

The  English  millions  afforded  him  a  year  of  respite. 
The  administrator  paid  the  huge  debts,  and  he  was  able 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  loi 

to  live  without  economizing,  in  Paris,  a  Paris  nearing 
the  end  of  its  third  year  of  war  with  inexplicable  tran- 
quillity, resuming  its  usual  pleasures  as  though  all  danger 
were  past.  Love  affairs  with  two  distinguished  women, 
whose  husbands  were  called  to  arms — although  they  were 
not  at  the  front — caused  him  to  spend  a  few  months,  now 
at  Biarritz,  now  on  the  Riviera,  and  now  at  Aix-les- 
Bains. 

His  agent  disturbed  these  enjoyments.  He  was  con- 
stantly repeating  the  same  advice :  "You  must  sell."  The 
Prince's  fortune  was  already  like  an  old  ship  drifting 
aimlessly.  The  administrator  had  stopped  the  last  leaks 
with  the  money  from  the  most  recent  sale,  but  warned 
him  at  every  moment  that  she  was  taking  in  water 
through  new  ones. 

In  the  end  Michael  Fedor  grew  accustomed  to  mis- 
fortune, accepting  it  serenely. 

The  sale  of  the  palace  built  by  his  mother  moved  him 
less  than  that  of  his.  yacht. 

At  the  same  time  his  desires  had  changed.  He  was 
beginning  to  tire  of  love  adventures,  which  seemed  to 
be  the  only  object  of  existence.  His  fresh  and  vigorous 
constitution,  which  had  amazed  Castro,  suddenly  broke 
down.  But  this  was  more  the  result  of  worry  than  of 
physical  wear  and  tear. 

He  felt  that  he  was  poor,  and  was  he  not  accustomed 
to  pay  royally  for  his  love  affairs?  Not  being  able  to 
reward  women  with  luxury,  he  would  rather  flee  in  order 
not  to  accept  from  them  and  be  obliged  to  tolerate  from 
them  their  caprices.  He  preferred  to  master  his  desires, 
as  long  as  he  could  not  satisfy  them  with  all  the  grandeur 
of  an  oriental  potentate.  Besides  he  was  tired  of  love, 
and  all  the  pleasant  things  of  life  a  man  can  find  in  this 
world !  .  .  . 


102  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

He  thought  of  his  friend  Atilio,  of  the  Colonel,  of 
Villa  Sirena,  white  and  shining  in  the  Mediterranean  sun- 
light, among  the  olive  trees  and  cypresses. 

"The  earth  is  being  swept  by  the  deluge.  Perhaps  the 
old  lands  will  once  more  appear;  perhaps  they  will  re- 
main submerged  forever.  .  .  .  Let  us  take  refuge  in  our 
Ark,  and  wait  and  hope." 


CHAPTER  IV 

After  glancing  with  satisfaction  at  the  imposing  aspect 
of  Villa  Sirena,  the  adjoining  buildings,  and  the  sur- 
rounding groves,  the  Colonel  said  to  Novoa : 

"The  part  you  see  cost  less  than  what  you  don't  see. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  money  spent  under  ground  here." 

Turning  away  from  the  residence,  Don  Marcos  pointed 
to  the  gardens,  which  lay  extended  before  them  in  ter- 
races, some  on  a  level  with  the  roof  of  the  "villa,"  others 
descending  like  a  mighty  stairway  almost  to  the  water's 
edge. 

He  recalled  the  promontory  as  it  was  when  the  late 
Princess  first  thought  of  buying  it;  an  ancient  refuge 
of  pirates ;  a  tongue  of  rocks  wild  and  storm-swept  when 
the  mistral  was  blowing,  with  deep  caves  gnawed  by  th-e 
surge,  which  caused  the  land  above  to  crumble,  and 
threatened  to  break  it  lengthwise  into  a  chain  of  reefs  and 
islets. 

"The  bulwarks  we  have  had  to  build!"  he  continued. 
"You  should  have  seen  the  stone  we  had  to  put  in  here, 
— enough  to  build  a  wall  around  the  whole  city !" 

There  were  walls  more  than  twenty  yards  thick,  de- 
scending in  a  gradual  slope  from  the  gardens  to  the  sea. 
In  places,  it  was  possible  to  see  their  foundations  in  the 
natural  rocks  which  emerged  from  the  water  like  green- 
ish beads  always  awash  in  the  foam ;  in  other  places  the 
masonry  went  down  and  down  until  it  was  lost  from  view 
in  the  watery  depths.  They  were  like  the  breakwaters 
one  sees  in  harbors.  They  covered  the  original  hollows 
of  the  promontory,  the  caves,  the  inlets  that  were  form- 

103 


104  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ing,  and  all  the  jagged  spaces,  which  had  been  filled  with 
rich  soil. 

These  tremendous  works  of  masonry  were  Toledo's 
pride,  owing  to  their  cost  and  grandeur.  He  called  his 
fellow-countryman's  attention  to  the  proportions  of  the 
ramparts,  worthy  of  a  monarch  of  olden  times. 

"And  they  are  not  only  strong,"  he  continued,  "but 
look,  Professor !    They  are  all  'artistic'  " 

The  blocks  of  stone  had  been  cut  in  large  hexagons 
which  fitted  together  in  a  uniform  mosaic,  each  piece 
outlined  by  a  cement  border. 

At  intervals  there  were  large  openings,  so  that  the 
earth  might  rid  itself  of  its  moisture;  but  each  one  of 
these  blind  windows  held  some  sort  of  wild  vegetation, 
some  hardy,  aromatic  plant,  obstinately  parasitic,  spread- 
ing downward  over  the  wall  and  covering  it  with  flowers 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  year.  The  thick  groves  at  the 
summit,  and  the  long  balustrades  arched  with  wine-col- 
ored clematis,  seemed  to  exude  a  flowery,  green,  inferior 
form  of  life,  pouring  it  out  seaward  through  the  gaps  in 
the  wall. 

"When  you  see  it  from  a  boat  below  you  will  ap- 
preciate it  better.  Senor  Castro  says  it  reminds  him  of  the 
hanging  gardens  of  Babylon,  and  of  Queen  Semiramis. 
He  is  the  only  one  who  would  think  of  such  comparisons. 
All  I  can  say  is  that  it  meant  doing  all  this !  Imagine  all 
the  stone.  A  whole  quarry !  And  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  the  bargeloads  of  rich  soil  it  took  to  fill  the  hollows, 
level  the  ground,  and  make  a  decent  garden !" 

He  grew  enthusiastic  as  he  talked  about  the  modem 
flower  gardens  stretching  around  the  villa  and  along  the 
iron  railing  bordering  the  Menton  road ;  and  he  lavished 
his  praise  on  their  harmonious  elegance,  and  the  majestic 
regulation  to  which  the  plants  were  forced  to  conform. 
That  was  how  he  felt  a  garden  should  be,  like  many  an- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  105 

other  thing  in  life:  perfect  order,  a  sense  of  subordina- 
tion, and  respect  for  the  hierarchies,  each  thing  in  its 
place,  with  no  individual  rivalries  to  cause  confusion.  But 
he  was  afraid  to  expound  his  "old-fashioned"  tastes,  re- 
calling the  jests  of  the  Prince  and  Castro.  They  pre- 
ferred the  park,  which  the  Colonel  always  thought  of  as 
the  "wild  garden." 

They  had  availed  themselves  of  the  extremely  ancient 
olive  trees  already  on  the  promontory  as  a  beginning  for 
the  park.  These  trees  could  not  be  called  old,  exactly. 
Such  an  appellation  would  have  been  petty  and  inade- 
quate to  their  age.  They  were  simply  ancient,  of  no 
visible  age.  They  had  an  air  of  changeless  eternity 
about  them  which  made  them  seem  contemporaries  of 
the  rocks  and  the  waves  themselves.  They  looked  more 
like  ruins  than  like  trees,  like  heaps  of  black  wood, 
twisted  and  overthrown  by  a  storm,  or  piles  of  wood, 
warped  and  hollowed  and  scorched  by  some  fire  long 
since  past.  With  them  also  the  invisible  part  was  more 
important  than  the  portions  exposed  to  the  light.  Their 
roots,  as  large  around  as  tree  trunks,  went  out  of  sight, 
wound  their  way  through  the  red  earth,  and  then  appeared 
once  more  thirty  or  forty  yards  beyond.  Some  of  the 
trees  had  died  on  one  side,  only  to  come  to  life  again 
on  the  other.  What  had  been  the  trunk  five  hundred 
years  before,  now  appeared  as  a  mutilated  stump,  table 
shaped,  severed  by  ax  or  shattered  by  thunderbolt;  and 
the  root,  showing  above  the  soil,  was  flowering  again 
in  its  turn,  changing  into  a  tree,  to  continue  an  apparently 
limitless  existence,  in  which  centuries  counted  as  years. 
The  hearts  of  other  trees  were  gnawed  away  and  empty ; 
and  these  supported  only  half  of  their  outer  shell,  look- 
ing like  a  tower  with  one  side  blown  out  by  an  explo- 
sion; but  on  high  they  displayed  an  almost  ridiculous 
crown  of  foliage,  a  few  handfuls  of  silvery  leaves  scat- 


io6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tering  along  the  sinuous  black  branches.  Below,  the 
gnarled  roots  which  seemed  to  have  preserved  in  their 
knotted  windings  the  sap  that  was  the  first  life  of  the 
earth,  embraced  a  much  larger  radius  on  the  ground 
than  that  occupied  by  the  branches  in  the  air.  Other 
olive  trees,  that  were  only  three  or  four  hundred  years 
old,  stood  erect  with  the  arrogance  of  youth,  leafy  and 
exuberant,  casting  a  light,  trembling,  almost  diaphanous 
shadow,  like  that  of  frosted  glass  which  swayed  with 
the  capricious  will  of  the  wind. 

"His  Excellency  says  that  there  are  olive  trees  here 
that  were  seen  by  the  Romans.  Do  you  believe  it,  Pro- 
fessor? Can  it  be  that  any  of  these  trees  date  back  to 
the  time  of  Jesus  Christ  ?" 

Novoa  hesitated  in  replying.  The  Colonel  continued 
his  observations  as  they  walked  along  between  walls  of 
well-trimmed  shrubbery  towards  the  end  of  the  park. 

"Look :  there  is  the  Greek  garden." 

It  was  an  avenue  of  laurels  and  cypress  trees  with 
curving  marble  benches,  and  in  the  background  a  semi- 
circular colonnade. 

"I  would  have  liked  to  plant  a  great  many  palms: 
African,  Japanese,  and  Brazilian,  like  those  in  the  gardens 
of  the  Casino.  But  the  Prince  and  Don  Atilio  detest 
them.  They  say  that  they  are  an  anachronism,  that  they 
never  existed  in  this  region,  and  were  imported  by  the 
wealthy  people  who  have  been  building  for  the  last  fifty 
years  on  the  Blue  Coast.  All  those  two  fellows  admire 
is  the  ancient  Provencal  or  Italian  garden:  olive  trees, 
laurels,  and  cypresses — but  not  the  huge,  funereal  cy- 
presses with  bushy  tops,  that  we  use  in  Spain,  to  deco- 
rate the  calvaries  and  cemeteries.  Look  at  them:  they 
are  as  light  and  slender  as  feathers.  To  keep  the  wind 
from  blowing  them  over  you  have  to  plant  two  or  three 
together  in  a  clump." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  107 

They  had  reached  the  extreme  limit  of  the  park,  where 
the  leafiest  olive  trees  were  growing.  They  walked  along 
open  pathways  through  high  masses  of  wild  and  fra- 
grant vegetation,  whose  vigorous  vitality  seemed  to  chal- 
lenge the  salt  breeze.  The  plants  had  stiff  leaves,  and 
gave  out  strong  exotic  perfumes.  As  Novoa  breathed  in 
the  fragrance,  it  evoked  visions  of  far-off  lands ;  and  in 
truth  it  seemed  almost  as  though  an  odor  of  Hindoo  cook- 
ing or  Oriental  incense  were  floating  through  that  wild 
garden.  A  variety  of  creepers  hung  from  tree  to  tree. 
Though  it  was  still  winter  these  natural  garlands  had 
already  beg^^n  to  bloom,  owing  to  the  warm  breezes  of 
an  early  Spring.  They  stood  out  with  all  the  gay  splen- 
dor of  a  courtly  festival,  against  the  chaste  pale  green  of 
the  olive  trees. 

"Don  Atilio  says  that  all  this  makes  him  think  of  a 
Mozart  symphony." 

The  deep  blue  Mediterranean  lay  at  their  feet,  its  slow 
swells  combed  by  a  sharp  reef  that  broke  the  streaming 
water  into  clouds  of  spray.  Here  the  promontory  di- 
vided, forming  two  arms  of  unequal  length.  The  short- 
est was  a  prolongation  of  the  park,  carrying  the  magnifi- 
cent vegetation  which  flourished  on  its  back,  into  the  very 
waters.  The  other  descended  to  the  sea  in  a  chaos  of 
rocks  and  loose  earth,  with  no  growth  save  a  few  twisted 
pines,  clinging  to  the  soil,  obstinately  determined  to  pro- 
long their  death  struggle.  The  barren  loneliness  of  this 
tongue  of  land  drew  a  sad  smile  from  the  Colonel  each 
time  he  gazed  at  the  dividing  wall.  The  rugged  point 
Was  eaten  away  by  the  sea  with  caves  that  threatened  to 
rut  it  in  two.  It  had  no  regular  place  of  entrance,  being 
separated  from  the  mainland  by  the  gardens  of  Villa 
Sirena,  and  shut  off  by  a  hostile  wall,  which  represented 
the  inalienable  rights  of  ownership,  and  was  a  source  of 
Constant  indignation  and  amazement  to  Don  Marcos. 


io8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Doubtless  that  was  why  he  turned  away  from  it,  gazing 
out  toward  where  Monaco  lay  beyond  the  rocky  cliffs. 

"It  is  lovely,  Professor:  one  of  the  most  delightful 
panoramas  anywhere.  There  is  good  reason  for  people 
to  come  here  from  the  farthest  ends  of  the  earth !" 

He  let  his  glance  rest  on  the  violet  colored  mountains 
that,  at  the  farthest  horizon,  projected  out  upon  the 
sea,  like  the  limit  of  a  world.  They  were  the  so-called 
Mountains  of  the  Moors,  which,  with  Esterel  Point,  form 
a  branch  of  the  Maritime  Alps,  a  separate  mountain 
chain,  which  juts  into  the  Mediterranean.  In  the  op- 
posite direction  lay  a  portion  of  the  pseudo-Blue  Coast, 
which  begins  at  Toulon  and  Hyeres.  But  this  part  did 
not  interest  the  Colonel.  What  he  saw,  more  in  imagina- 
tion than  in  reality,  was  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  real 
Blue  Coast,  his  own  Blue  Coast — that  of  the  aristocratic 
and  wealthy  people  on  whom  he  was  in  the  habit  of  call- 
ing, in  their  elegant  villas  and  expensive  hotels. 

The  Maritime  Alps  form  a  giant  wall,  parallel  to  the 
sea.  In  some  places  they  fall  steeply  toward  the  Medi- 
terranean with  the  sharp  slope  of  a  bulwark,  without  the 
slightest  break  to  mask  the  abrupt  descent.  At  other 
points  the  incline  is  gentler,  creating  waves  of  stone, 
miniature  mountains  which  stand  out  above  the  water, 
forming  capes  and  placid  inlets.  And  on  these  sheltered 
shores,  from  Esterel  to  the  Italian  frontier,  wealthy 
people,  sensitive  to  cold,  arriving  in  pilgrimages  every 
winter,  had  finally  converted  the  sleepy  provincial  vil- 
lages into  world-famous  capitals.  Fishing  hamlets  were 
transformed  into  elegant  towns;  the  large  Paris  and 
London  hotels  erected  enormous  annexes  on  the  deserted 
bays ;  the  most  expensive  shops  of  the  Boulevards  opened 
branches  in  tiny  settlements  where  a  few  years  before 
every  one  had  gone  barefoot. 

In  his  mind  Toledo  went  over  the  undulating  line  of 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  109 

celebrated  places,  overlooking  the  sea  from  the  promon- 
tories, or  nestling  in  the  little  horseshoe  bays  to  profit 
more  directly  by  the  refraction  of  the  winter  sunlight 
from  the  red  walls  of  the  Alps :  Cannes,  which  inspired 
in  him  a  certain  awe  on  account  of  its  quiet  distinction — 
the  place  where  consumptives  and  old  people  of  renown 
desire  to  die — Antibes,  with  its  square  harbor  and  its 
walls  which,  according  to  Castro,  recalled  the  romantic 
seascapes  painted  by  Vernet;  Nice,  the  capital  where 
people  come  together  to  spend  their  money,  copying 
Parisian  life ;  the  deep  bay  of  Villefranche,  the  harborage 
of  battleships ;  Cap-Ferrat  and  the  beautiful  Point  Saint- 
Hospice,  a  former  den  of  African  pirates,  jutting  out 
from  it;  Beaulieu,  with  its  Tunisian  palaces,  the  homes 
of  American  multimillionaires,  who  always  keep  open 
house,  and  who  had  often  invited  the  Colonel  to  luncheon 
there ;  Eze,  the  feudal  hamlet,  hanging  grimly  to  the  side 
of  the  Alps,  and  falling  in  ruins  around  its  decaying 
castle,  while  down  below,  the  people  who  fled  from  it  are 
forming  a  new  town,  beside  the  gulf  which  their  pred- 
ecessors proudly  called  the  Sea  of  Eze ;  Cap  d'Ail,  which 
serves  as  a  sort  of  portico  to  the  adjoining  Principality; 
the  Rock  of  Monaco,  carrying  on  its  giant's  back  a  walled 
city;  opposite  it  the  dazzling  Monte  Carlo;  and  beyond, 
Cap-Martin,  with  somber  vegetation,  reserved  and  lordly, 
the  ultimate  shelter  of  dethroned  kings ;  and  lastly,  close 
to  Italy,  pleasant  Menton,  the  stronghold  of  Englishmen, 
another  place  for  invalids  of  distinction,  where  every  self- 
respecting  consumptive  feels  obliged  to  end  his  days. 

"Think  of  the  money  that  has  been  spent  here !"  Don 
Marcos  exclaimed. 

Fifty  years  before,  the  Corniche  railway  in  success- 
fully finding  its  way  through  this  mountain  region  had 
been  considered  a  marvelous  piece  of  work ;  but  now  for 
the  convenience  of  winter  visitors,  the  same  work  had 


no  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

been  repeated  in  every  direction.  Smoothly  curving  roads, 
clean  and  firm  as  a  drawing-room  floor,  extended  along 
the  seashore,  ascended  the  Alpine  heights,  passing  from 
crest  to  crest  on  lofty  viaducts,  or  burrowing  the  hills 
in  long  tunnels.  Where  the  perpendicular  rock  would 
not  allow  a  ledge  to  be  cut  the  engineer  had  made  one 
with  buttresses  many  yards  high,  the  bases  of  which  were 
lost  to  view  in  the  waves. 

A  new  dream  had  been  added  to  the  many  which  the 
blessed  in  this  world's  goods  may  realize — the  owning  of 
a  house  on  the  Riviera !  Within  fifty  years,  every  archi- 
tectural whim,  every  possible  fancy  of  rich  people  bent 
on  creating  sensations,  had  covered  this  shore  of  the 
Mediterranean  with  villas,  Greek,  Arabic,  Persian,  Vene- 
tian, and  Tuscan  palaces,  and  dwellings  of  other  distinct 
or  indescribable  styles.  The  palm  tree  was  imported  and 
acclimated  as  a  native  plant. 

"Enormous  fortunes  have  been  invested  here;  three 
generations  have  been  ruined,  and  as  many  more  en- 
riched. When  you  think  what  it  was  a  century  ago,  and 
see  what  it  is  now.  ...   !" 

The  Colonel  spoke  of  an  Englishwoman's  tomb,  com- 
pletely abandoned  on  the  extreme  point  of  Cap-Ferrat. 
She  was  a  forerunner  of  the  present  winter  visitors,  a 
youthful  contemporary  of  Byron,  charmed  by  the  beauty 
of  the  Mediterranean,  and  by  the  pathless  and  practical- 
ly unexplored  mountains.  On  her  death,  they  buried  her 
on  the  deserted  promontory,  because  she  was  a  Protestant. 
The  fishermen  and  peasants  of  this  lonely  coast  shunned 
the  stranger,  denying  her  the  rights  of  hospitality  even  in 
their  cemeteries. 

"This  happened  less  than  a  century  ago.  And  such 
poverty  as  there  was !  The  only  products  of  the  country 
were  thick  skinned  oranges,  lemons,  and  these  olives. 
The  trees  are  very  pretty,  very  decorative,  but  they  bear 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  iii 

an  exceedingly  small  pointed  olive,  all  pit.  Compare 
them  with  ours  in  Andalusia,  Professor!  And  to-day 
there  are  millionaires,  born  right  here  on  the  Riviera, 
who  have  grown  rich  merely  by  selling  the  wretched 
fields  of  their  fathers.  The  red  land,  abounding  in  stones, 
is  bought  by  the  yard,  even  in  the  most  out  of  the  way 
spots,  like  lots  in  large  cities.  When  you  least  expect 
it,  at  a  turn  in  the  road,  you  come  across  a  miserable 
hut  with  a  little  land  around  it  that  takes  your  fancy. 
The  roof  of  the  building  sags,  and  the  wind  blows 
through  the  cracks  in  the  wall.  The  owners  sleep  with 
the  pig,  the  chickens,  and  the  horse.  This  same  poverty 
and  shiftlessness  you  find  among  the  peasants  almost 
everywhere.  You  happen  to  think  that  you  might  build 
up  a  country  home  there  without  much  expense.  Surely 
the  good  people  won't  ask  very  much,  no  matter  how 
inflated  their  ideas  of  value  may  be !  But  when  you  ask 
the  price,  after  much  talk,  and  many  doubts,  they  finally 
say  in  the  most  casual  manner:  *A  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  francs,  or  two  hundred  thousand.'  When  you 
protest  in  amazement  they  reply,  pointing  to  the  moun- 
tains, the  sun,  and  the  sea :  'And  the  view,  monsieur.'  " 

The  red  soil  of  the  Alps  amounts  to  little  for  its  power 
of  production:  it  is  the  situation  that  gives  it  its  value. 
And  the  native  has  grown  rich  selling,  so  much  per  yard, 
the  sunlight,  the  azure  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  orange 
color  of  the  mountains  and  the  dazzling  glory  of  the 
clouds  at  sunset,  the  shelter  of  the  distant  rock  which, 
like  a  screen,  turns  aside  the  icy  breeze  of  the  mistral. 

"If  you  only  knew  how  inexplicably  obstinate  some 
of  these  people  are !" 

As  Don  Marcos  spoke  he  turned  and  pointed  out  to 
Novoa  the  miserable  strip  of  land  that  seemed  fastened 
like  a  curse  to  the  gardens  of  Villa  Sirena.  The  Princess 
Lubimoff  with  all  her  millions,  had  not  been  able  to  buy 


112  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  tip  of  that  promontory.  It  belonged  to  an  old  mar- 
ried couple  without  any  children.  "That  is  their  house," 
he  added,  pointing  to  a  sort  of  yellowish  cube,  halfway 
up  the  mountain,  beside  a  road  that  cut  across  the  red  and 
black  slope. 

The  Princess,  after  acquiring  the  promontory  for  her 
medieval  castle,  had  considered  the  acquisition  of  the 
small  extremity  a  mere  trifle.  "Give  them  what  they 
ask,"  she  said  to  her  business  agent.  And  in  spite  of 
her  recklessness  with  money,  she  was  amazed  to  learn 
that  they  refused  two  hundred  thousand  francs  for  a  few 
rocks  undermined  by  the  waves,  and  a  couple  of  dozen 
dying  pines. 

"I  was  present  at  the  interviews  with  the  old  people. 
The  agent  of  the  Princess  offered  five  hundred  thousand, 
six  hundred  thousand,  and  the  couple  did  not  seem  to 
grasp  the  meaning  of  the  figures.  The  Princess  lost  her 
patience,  lamenting  the  fact  that  they  were  not  in  Russia, 
in  the  good  old  days.  She  even  talked  of  engaging  an 
assassin  in  Italy — as  she  had  read  in  certain  novels — to 
get  rid  of  the  stubborn  old  pair.  It  was  just  like  her 
Excellency, — but  she  was  really  very  kind  at  heart! 
Finally,  one  day,  she  shouted  to  us:  'Offer  them  a  mil- 
lion, and  let  us  be  done  with  it!'  Imagine,  Professor, 
more  than  two  thousand  francs  a  yard;  you  could  buy 
land  at  that  rate  in  the  business  district  of  a  big  city! 
We  went  up  to  their  cottage.  They  didn't  bat  an  eye- 
lash when  they  heard  the  figure.  The  old  woman,  who 
was  the  more  intelligent  of  the  two,  let  Her  Excellency's 
lawyer  explain  what  a  million  meant.  She  looked  at  her 
husband  for  a  long  time,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  was 
the  only  one  of  the  two  who  was  doing  any  thinking, 
and  finally  accepted;  but  on  condition  that  the  Princess 
should  erect,  on  the  outermost  point,  a  chapel  to  the 
Virgin.    It  was  a  wish  that  her  simple  imagination  had 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  113 

cherished  all  her  life.  Without  the  chapel,  she  would 
not  accept  the  million.  'Don't  worry,  we'll  build  the 
chapel!'  we  said.  The  day  set  for  signing  the  papers, 
we  found  the  two  old  people,  sitting  in  the  lawyer's  office 
side  by  side,  with  bowed  heads.  The  lawyer  received  us, 
wringing  his  hands,  and  looking  toward  heaven  with  an 
expression  of  despair.  They  would  not  accept!  It  was 
no  use  insisting.  They  wanted  to  keep  things  just  as 
they  had  received  them  from  their  forefathers.  'What 
would  we  do  with  a  million?'  groaned  the  old  woman. 
'We  would  lead  a  terrible  life !'  We  tried  to  talk  to  her 
about  the  chapel,  in  order  to  persuade  her ;  but  they  both 
fled,  like  people  finding  themselves  in  bad  company,  and 
afraid  of  being  tempted." 

The  colonel  looked  once  more  at  the  dividing  wall. 

"Her  Excellency  being  a  born  fighter,  immediately  had 
the  partition  raised  before  beginning  the  foundation  of 
the  castle.  As  you  see  from  here,  the  old  people  can 
reach  their  property  only  by  the  beach;  and  on  stormy 
days  they  have  to  enter  the  water  up  to  their  knees.  That 
doesn't  matter;  from  that  time  on  they  became  more 
attached  than  ever  to  their  land.  They  used  to  come 
down  from  the  mountains  every  Sunday,  to  sit  at  the 
foot  of  the  wall.  By  constantly  measuring  the  point  they 
succeeded  in  discovering  an  error  made  by  the  architect, 
who  had  been  a  trifle  flustered  owing  to  the  haste  en- 
forced upon  him  by  the  Princess.  He  had  made  a  mis- 
take of  eighteen  inches,  and  half  the  width  of  the  wall 
was  on  the  old  people's  land.  The  peasant  woman,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  she  had  a  sort  of  superstitious  fear 
of  the  majesty  of  the  law,  threatened  to  bring  suit  even 
though  she  might  be  forced  to  sell  her  hut  and  field  on 
the  mountain  to  fight  the  case.  It  was  necessary  to  tear 
down  the  wall,  and  build  it  up  again,  half  a  yard  farther 
this  way.     It  meant  some  sixty  thousand  francs  lost — 


114  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

nothing  for  the  Princess — and  yet  I  suspect  at  times,  that 
the  affair  may  have  hastened  her  death." 

Don  Marcos  felt  that  he  must  pause  a  moment  out  of 
respect  for  the  deceased. 

"The  old  woman  has  died  too,"  he  continued,  "and 
her  husband  comes  here  only  from  time  to  time.  When 
he  finds  that  one  of  his  pine  trees  has  fallen,  through  the 
wearing  away  of  the  soil,  he  sits  down  close  beside  it, 
just  as  though  he  were  watching  beside  a  corpse.  At 
other  times  he  spends  hours  looking  at  the  sea  and  the 
huge  rocks,  as  though  calculating  how  long  it  would  take 
the  waves  to  break  his  property  to  pieces.  One  afternoon, 
going  on  foot  from  La  Turbie  to  Roquebrune,  I  ran 
across  him  near  his  hut,  where  he  was  pasturing  some 
sheep.  With  his  long  beard  he  looked  like  a  patriarch; 
and  he  is  always  the  same,  leaning  on  his  staff,  with  a 
dirty  tam-o'shanter  on  his  head,  and  a  rough  cape  about 
his  shoulders.  Besides,  he  always  has  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth,  though  he  rarely  smokes.  'The  million  is  waiting,' 
I  said  in  fun,  'whenever  you  want  to  come  and  get  it.' 
He  didn't  seem  to  understand  me.  He  smiled  with  a 
look  of  vague  recognition,  but  perhaps  he  thought  I  was 
some  one  else.  His  gaze  was  fixed  on  Monte  Carlo,  a 
bird's-eye  view  of  which  lay  at  our  feet.  He  must  spend 
hours  and  weeks  like  that.  His  face  looks  as  though  it 
were  carved  of  wood,  or  molded  in  terra  cotta;  he 
seldom  speaks,  and  no  one  can  guess  the  substance  of 
his  reflections.  But  I  think  that  every  day  the  same 
identical  amazement  must  be  renewed,  and  that  he  will 
die  without  ever  recovering  from  his  surprise.  He  sees 
the  expanse  of  waters,  which  is  always  the  same,  the 
eternal  hills,  that  never  change,  the  house  built  by  his 
ancestors,  which  was  old  when  he  was  bom,  the  olive 
groves,  the  mighty  rocks  .  .  .  but  that  city  has  sprung 
up,  since  he  was  a  grown  man,  from  a  plateau  covered 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  115 

with  thickets,  and  burrowed  with  caves,  and  it  is  enlarged 
each  year  with  new  hotels,  new  streets,  and  more  domes 
and  turrets!" 

The  Colonel  suddenly  forgot  the  old  peasant.  With 
his  fellow-countryman,  Novoa,  he  felt  quite  talkative,  and 
he  imagined  that  his  thoughts  flowed  more  freely  and 
vigorously,  through  this  contact  with  a  man  of  learning. 
Besides,  he  felt  a  certain  pride  in  being  able  to  talk  like 
an  old  inhabitant,  of  the  many  things  of  which  the  new- 
comer was  ignorant. 

"The  fortress  you  see  over  there  practically  belonged 
to  us  at  one  time,"  he  went  on,  pointing  to  the  Castle  of 
Monaco.  "For  a  century  and  a  half  it  had  a  Spanish 
garrison.  Our  great  Charles  V" — and  the  old  Legitimist 
spoke  the  name  with  a  note  of  deep  respect — "once  slept 
there.     And  there,  too." 

Turning,  he  pointed  out  on  the  mountain  summit  of 
Cap-Martin  the  village  of  Roquebrune,  huddled  about  its 
ruined  castle. 

"The  archivist  of  the  Prince  of  Monaco  is  studying  the 
numerous  letters  in  his  possession  written  by  our  great 
Emperor  to  the  Grimaldi  family.  When  the  historians 
of  the  Principality  wish  to  establish  the  indisputable  in- 
dependence of  their  tiny  land,  they  cite  as  the  origins  of 
the  state  the  treaties  signed  at  Burgos,  Tordesillas,  and 
Madrid." 

In  a  few  words  he  went  over  the  history  of  the  little 
country,  which  came  into  being  around  a  little  harbor. 
Semitic  sailors  gave  it  the  name  of  Melkar — the  Phoe- 
nician Hercules — and  the  word  gradually  changed  into 
the  present  one,  Monaco.  The  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines 
of  Genoa  fought  for  possession  of  its  castle,  until  a 
Grimaldi,  disguised  as  a  monk,  entered  the  enclosure  by 
surprise  and  opened  the  gates  to  his  friends,  making  the 
ancient  Hercules  Harbor  an  estate  of  his  family  for  all 


ii6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

time.  "This  friar,  sword  in  hand,"  continued  Don  Mar- 
cos, "is  the  one  that  figures  on  both  sides  of  the  coat 
of  arms  of  Monaco.  From  that  time  on  the  history  of 
the  Grimaldis  is  similar  to  that  of  all  the  ruling  houses 
of  those  days.  They  made  war  on  their  neighbors,  and 
quarreled  among  themselves,  to  the  extent  that  brother 
even  assassinated  brother.  The  sailors  of  Monaco  plied 
the  trade  of  corsair,  and  their  flag  was  even  used  to  give 
distinction  to  the  pirates  of  other  countries.  The  alliance 
of  the  Grimaldis  with  Spain  allowed  them  to  use  the  title 
of  Prince  for  the  first  time.  Charles  V  addressed  them 
in  his  letters  as  'dear  Cousins,'  and  gave  them  other 
honorary  titles.  This  great  rock  was  of  exceeding  im- 
portance to  the  Spanish  Monarchs  who  had  lands  in  Italy 
and  needed  to  keep  the  route  safe.  The  Kings  of  France 
were  very  anxious,  on  their  part,  to  do  away  with  this 
obstacle  and  win  the  Grimaldis  over  to  their  side.  You 
must  realize  that  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  the  latter 
kept  their  agreements  faithfully,  and  that  during  all 
this  time  the  subsidies  that  had  been  promised  them  from 
Madrid  were  sent  only  at  rare  intervals.  Two  galleys 
from  Monaco  always  figured  in  the  rolls  of  the  Spanish 
na^y.  Only  when  the  decline  of  Austria  began  to  cause 
us  to  lose  our  influence  in  Europe,  did  the  Grimaldis, 
like  people  fleeing  from  a  house  that  is  tumbling  down, 
abandon  us.  At  that  particular  moment,  Richelieu  was 
making  France  a  great  power,  and  they  went  with  him. 
One  night  amid  thunder  and  lightning,  when  the  garri- 
son, composed  for  the  most  part  of  Italians  in  the  serv- 
ice of  Spain,  were  carelessly  asleep,  the  French  caught 
them  unawares,  disarmed  them,  after  killing  a  few  who 
tried  to  resist,  and  finally  sent  the  remainder  courteously 
to  the  Spanish  Viceroy  at  Milan,  with  the  notice  that 
the  alliance  must  be  considered  broken  forever. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  117 

"The  Grimaldis  became  the  liege-lords  of  France.  La- 
ter they  went  to  Versailles,  as  courtiers,  or  served  in  the 
King's  armies.  During  the  Revolution  they  were  perse- 
cuted, like  all  the  other  princes,  and  a  beautiful  lady  of 
the  family  was  guillotined.  Napoleon  kept  them  in  his 
military  following  as  aides-de-camp,  and  the  long  peace 
of  the  Nineteenth  Century  caused  them  to  return  and 
take  up  their  abode  once  more  in  their  tiny  Principality. 

"They  were  so  poor!"  Toledo  went  on.  "They  were 
obliged  to  keep  up  the  show  and  pomp  of  a  court,  since 
in  a  small  state  where  all  are  neighbors,  the  Prince  has  to 
exaggerate  formality,  in  order  to  hold  the  people's  re- 
spect. The  same  expenses  must  be  defrayed  as  in  a  large 
nation ;  the  maintenance  of  courts,  administrative  offices, 
and  even  a  diminutive  army  for  internal  safety.  And 
the  whole  Principality  produced  nothing  but  lemons  and 
olives.  .  .  .  You  can  see  for  yourself  how  poor  and  how 
hard  pressed  they  must  have  been,  not  knowing  how  to 
raise  funds,  especially  since  under  the  rule  of  Florestan 
I,  the  grandfather  of  the  present  Prince,  there  was  an  at- 
tempted revolution,  owing  to  the  decree  of  the  Sovereign 
that  the  olives  of  the  country  should  be  pressed  exclu- 
sively in  the  mills  of  his  estate. 

"Later  under  Charles  III,  the  situation  became  still 
more  difficult.  The  Principality  was  dismembered.  The 
two  cities,  Menton  and  Roquebrune,  dependencies  of  Mo- 
naco, full  of  enthusiasm  for  the  Italian  Revolution,  de- 
clared their  freedom,  and  joined  the  Kingdom  of  Savoy. 
Shortly  after,  when  Napoleon  III  acquired  the  former 
County  of  Nice  they  fell  under  the  control  of  France. 
And  thus  Monaco  was  isolated  within  French  territory, 
with  its  sovereignty  clearly  recognized ;  but  a  sovereignty 
that  embraced  only  a  single  city  on  a  rocky  height,  a 
small  harbor,  and  a  little  surrounding  land  overgrown 


ii8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

with  parasitical  vegetation;  about  as  much  ground  as  a 
peaceful  citizen  might  cover  in  a  morning  walk.  How 
was  the  tiny  State  to  be  maintained? 

"It  was  saved  by  gambling.  Don't  imagine  as  some 
people  do,  that  the  idea  originated  with  the  Ruler  of 
Monaco.  Many  German  Princes  had  had  recourse  to 
some  enterprise  to  support  their  domains.  It  is  a  German 
invention ;  but  gambling  on  the  shore  of  the  Mediterran- 
ean, under  a  winter  sun  that  seldom  fails,  is  quite  a  dif- 
ferent thing  from  gambling  in  Central  Europe.  At  first 
the  business  was  unsuccessful.  They  established  a  miser- 
able Casino  in  old  Monaco,  opposite  the  Palace,  in  what 
is  now  the  barracks  of  the  Prince's  Guard.  The  betting 
was  very  slight.  It  was  necessary  to  come  by  diligence, 
over  the  Alpine  heights,  following  the  old  Roman  route, 
and  to  descend  from  La  Turbie  by  roads  that  were  like 
ravines.  One  had  to  be  very  anxious  indeed  to  gamble. 
Later  the  Casino  was  transferred  to  the  harbor  below, 
where  the  La  Condamine  district  is  to-day :  another  fail- 
ure. The  lessees  of  the  gaming  privileges  went  bank- 
rupt, and  were  unable  to  fulfill  their  obligations  to  the 
Prince.  And  then  the  Corniche  Railway  was  put  through, 
placing  Monaco  on  the  road  between  Paris  and  Italy; 
and  all  the  gamblers  and  idlers  of  the  world  came  flock- 
ing here  within  a  few  years.     What  a  transformation !" 

The  Colonel  recalled  once  more  the  old  peasant,  who, 
pasturing  his  sheep  on  the  Alpine  slope,  spent  hours  and 
hours  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  marvelous  city,  stretching 
out  below,  on  the  very  spot  that,  as  a  young  man,  he  had 
seen  covered  with  thickets. 

"That  was  the  beginning  of  Monte  Carlo.  Opposite  the 
rock  of  Monaco,  forming  the  other  side  of  the  harbor, 
there  was  an  abandoned  plateau,  only  some  sixty  years 
ago.  Scattered  about  the  gardens  of  the  Square,  among 
the  tropical  trees,  there  are  still  a  few  scraggly  olive 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  119 

trees  left  from  those  times.  They  have  been  spared  as 
relics  of  the  days  of  poverty.  Where  we  now  find  the 
Casino,  the  large  hotels,  and  the  most  elegant  tea-houses, 
there  were  caves  dating  back  to  prehistoric  times,  which 
in  less  remote  periods  served  as  haunts  for  thieves.  On 
account  of  the  grottoes  this  wild  plateau  was  nicknamed 
The  Caverns.  Some  of  the  things  you  have  seen  in  the 
Anthropological  Museum  in  Monaco,  stone  axes,  human 
bones,  etc.,  came  from  those  caves.  And  the  abandoned 
plateau,  in  some  ten  or  twelve  years,  was  converted  into 
Monte  Carlo,  the  great  city  of  world  fame,  leaving  on  the 
heights  opposite  in  obscurity  and  more  or  less  in  oblivion, 
the  historic  Monaco,  which  at  present  is  merely  one  of  its 
suburbs.  Monte  Carlo  has  grown  so  that  it  extends  from 
one  end  of  the  Principality  to  the  other ;  the  entire  nation- 
al territory  is  covered  with  houses,  and  each  year  it  over- 
flows still  farther  beyond  the  boundary  line.  The  French 
part  is  called  Beausoleil.  You  have  only  to  cross  the 
Square  in  front  of  the  Casino,  ascend  the  sloping  gardens, 
and  mount  a  stairway  to  the  Boulevard  du  Nord,  to  find 
one  of  the  rarest  sights  in  Europe.  One  sidewalk  belongs 
to  the  Prince  of  Monaco,  and  the  other  across  the  street, 
to  the  French  Republic.  The  shopkeepers  pay  different 
taxes  and  obey  different  laws,  according  to  whether  their 
show  windows  are  on  the  left  or  on  the  right." 

Toledo  remained  thoughtful  for  a  moment. 

"The  miracles  accomplished  by  roulette!"  he  contin- 
ued. "The  magic  power  of  'red  and  black'!  They  say 
the  Casino  is  a  marvel  of  poor  taste,  but  the  walls  and 
ceilings  fairly  drip  with  gold,  as  in  a  rich  church.  The 
theater  there  is  the  first  to  produce  many  operas  that  be- 
come famous  throughout  the  world.  The  countless  hotels 
.are  like  palaces.  Monte  Carlo  bristles  with  domes  and 
turrets  like  an  oriental  city.  The  streets  with  their  scru- 
pulously   clean    pavements,    seem    like    drawing-rooms. 


120  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

There  isn't  a  trace  of  dirt.  And  think  of  the  gardens! 
The  Alps,  here,  form  a  wonderful  screen;  we  live  in  a 
sunny  shelter ;  almost  a  hothouse.  But  at  times  the  mis- 
tral blows,  and  it  is  cold.  I  don't  know  how  it  is  possible 
for  all  those  tropical  plants  that  are  so  fresh  and  luxur- 
iant, and  all  those  trees  that  originate  in  a  climate  as  hot 
as  an  oven,  to  live  here.  The  poor  old  olives  must  be 
as  amazed  as  I  myself  at  finding  themselves  in  such 
company.  'Trente  et  Quarante'  must  be  a  powerful  fer- 
tilizer! I'm  sure  that  if  the  gambling  were  to  stop,  all 
this  tropical  vegetation  would  vanish  like  a  dream." 

The  silent  Professor  greeted  these  words  with  a  smile. 

"And  what  a  transformation  in  the  people!"  the  Col- 
onel continued.  "Notice  the  crowd  some  Sunday;  none 
of  them  like  workmen,  all  equally  well  dressed!  The 
girls  here  copy  what  they  see  worn  by  the  elegant  society 
women ;  and  imagine  how  many  of  the  latter  come  here ! 
You  never  see  a  beggar,  nor  a  man  in  rags.  To  be  bom 
here  means  something:  one's  livelihood  is  assured.  The 
Casino  takes  care  of  every  one;  there  is  always  a  place 
for  every  citizen  in  the  gambling  rooms,  in  the  gardens, 
or  in  the  theater;  and  if  not,  on  the  police  force,  in  the 
administrative  offices,  or  in  the  Prince's  household — and 
the  latter  is  paid  for  with  the  Company's  money  too.  To 
achieve  the  dignity  of  being  put  in  charge  of  a  gaming 
table  is  the  native's  highest  ambition.  He  may  earn  as 
much  as  a  thousand  francs  a  month,  not  counting  the 
tips.  That  is  more  perhaps  than  you  will  ever  earn,  Pro- 
fessor. And  he  ends  his  days  in  a  little  villa  he  has  built 
on  the  heights  of  Beausoleil,  where  he  can  look  after  his 
garden,  with  a  view  below  of  the  Casino — the  house  of 
the  Good  Fairy  that  dispenses  all  blessings.  They  all 
have  enough  to  live  on  as  long  as  they  know  how  to  keep 
a  silent  tongue,  and  mind  their  own  business.  An  old 
cab  driver,  whom  I  sometimes  engage,  was  bold  enough 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  121 

one  evening  to  talk  quite  frankly  with  me,  owing  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  slightly  intoxicated.  His  wife  has  been 
for  some  twenty  years  now  in  the  Ladies'  Section  of  the 
Casino  toilets;  his  daughters  work  as  cleaners;  his  sons 
are  employed  in  the  theater.  They  all  bring  in  money. 
Moreover,  the  old  men  retire  on  pay,  the  sick  are  not 
forgotten,  and  the  widows  and  orphans  of  every  employee 
that  dies  during  service  are  paid  pensions.  'It's  a  great 
country,  sir,'  the  driver  said  to  me,  'the  best  in  the  world. 
Every  one  can  make  a  living,  as  long  as  he's  wise  enough 
to  keep  his  mouth  shut,  and  not  make  trouble.'  And  you 
can  depend  upon  it,  they  are  all  discreet.  Moreover  they 
watch  one  another,  and  are  afraid  of  being  denounced 
by  their  best  friend,  if  they  talk  about  the  latest  scandal, 
or  a  gambler's  suicide.  Among  strangers  not  one  of  them 
lets  on  that  he  knows  anything." 

"And  supposing  one  of  them  were  to  talk  ?"  asked  No- 
voa.    "Or  if  one  of  them  were  to  make  trouble?" 

"They  would  banish  him.  It  is  a  paternal  despotism, 
and  does  not  dare  inflict  harsher  punishments.  The  police 
of  the  Prince  make  him  go  half  way  across  the  street,  and 
put  him  on  the  French  sidewalk.  .  .  .  Don't  laugh ;  it  is 
a  cruel  penalty.  Exiles  to  other  places  finally  grow  accus- 
tomed to  their  misfortune,  since  they  live  at  a  great  dis- 
tance, and  see  their  native  land  only  in  their  mind's  eye. 
But  a  man  who  is  exiled  here  can  almost  reach  out  and 
touch  his  country  with  his  hand ;  he  has  only  to  cross  the 
width  of  the  street.  As  the  land  slopes  downward,  he  can 
see  his  house  a  few  roofs  beyond.  He  sees  the  smoke 
from  breakfast  coming  out  of  the  chimney,  and  yet  he 
cannot  sit  down  to  his  own  table;  the  family  is  at  the 
windows,  and  he  has  to  talk  to  them  by  signs.  Moreover, 
and  worst  of  all,  he  sees  that  the  rest  who  were  prudent 
go  on  leading  their  pleasant  lives  in  the  shadow  of  the 
Casino,  while  he  has  to  seek  a  new  profession  at  much 


122  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

harder  work.  His  torment  becomes  unbearable,  and  he 
finally  flees  to  some  distant  city,  to  let  a  few  years  go  by, 
so  he  may  be  pardoned." 

Don  Marcos  began  to  praise  Monte  Carlo  again ;  "Peo- 
ple who  lose  their  money  in  the  Casino  always  retain  an 
unpleasant  memory  of  it ;  but  where  can  one  find  a  quiet- 
er, cleaner,  or  more  peaceful  city,  with  its  Spring-like 
climate  in  mid-winter? 

"Everybody  comes  here  sooner  or  later ;  lots  of  rogues, 
of  course;  but  you  find  famous  people  too,  and  you  can 
enjoy  society  of  distinction.  I  scarcely  ever  gamble,  and 
for  that  reason  I  appreciate  the  beauty  of  the  scenery. 
And  more  than  that :  at  times  I  have  the  satisfaction  one 
feels  in  getting  things  for  nothing;  and  when  I  gaze  at 
the  lovely  walks,  when  I  attend  the  concerts  and  operas, 
and  enjoy  the  sweet  tranquilHty  of  a  city  in  which  there 
are  no  poor,  and  no  desperate  revolutionists,  I  say  to  my- 
self :  'The  gamblers  pay  for  this,  and  you  get  the  benefit 
of  it    They  lose  so  that  you  may  enjoy  life.'  " 

As  Novoa  smiled  again,  the  Colonel  expressed  his  ad- 
miration still  more  glowingly. 

"It  seems  impossible  that  roulette  should  have  per- 
formed so  many  miracles !  And  there  must  be  others  be- 
sides those  which  lie  before  our  eyes.  Gambling  has  paid 
the  cost  of  this  delightful  harbor  of  La  Condamine :  a 
harbor  for  yachts,  with  elegant  docks  that  are  really 
promenades.  It  must  have  had  a  hand  also  in  the  restora- 
tion of  the  castle  of  the  Prince.  It  even  helps  to  develop 
the  spiritual  life  of  the  place,  and  increase  the  prestige 
of  religion.  Before  roulette  came  none  of  the  clergy  were 
of  higher  rank  than  priests.  Since  the  triumph  of  the 
Casino  there  has  been  a  Bishop,  and  canons ;  and  a  beau- 
tiful Byzantine  cathedral  has  been  erected,  which,  accord- 
ing to  Castro,  needs  only  to  have  Time  darken  it  a  bit. 
The  Sunday  masses  are  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  123 

the  Principality.  The  Nice  papers  print  the  program  of 
the  music  that  will  be  sung  by  the  choir,  alongside  the 
program  of  the  concert  at  the  Casino:  'Canto  piano  of 
the  most  celebrated  masters,  the  Italian  Palestrina,  or 
the  Spanish  Vitoria.' " 

Novoa  interrupted  him. 

"There  is  the  Museum  of  Oceanography  too.  That 
alone  is  enough  to  remove  any  taint  from  the  money 
which  has  come  from  the  Casino." 

He  said  this  with  the  pleasing  voice  and  the  somewhat 
distracted  expression  that  were  natural  to  him;  but  in 
his  words  there  was  the  mystic  ardor  of  the  firm  be- 
liever. 

The  Colonel  nodded  assent.  The  Museum  which 
roused  the  Professor's  enthusiasm  was  the  work  of  the 
Prince,  and  as  for  himself,  Don  Marcos  felt  a  deep  re- 
spect for  "Albert,"  as  he  called  the  sovereign  famiUarly. 
"Albert"  had  been  an  officer  in  the  Spanish  navy.  As  a 
lieutenant  commander  he  had  sailed  the  coast  of  Cuba; 
in  his  books  he  had  praised  the  old  Spanish  sailors,  his 
first  masters  in  the  art  of  navigation.  What  more  was 
needed  to  inspire  veneration  in  Don  Marcos  ? 

"Whenever  he  attends  a  ceremony  in  his  Principality 
he  wears  the  uniform  of  a  Spanish  admiral.  And  he  is 
a  man  of  science :  you  know  that  better  than  I  do." 

He  gave  Novoa  a  chance  to  speak.  Three-fourths  of 
the  earth  were  covered  with  water,  and  for  centuries  and 
centuries  humanity  took  no  interest  in  investigating  the 
mysterious  hidden  life  of  the  ocean  depths.  Navigators, 
skimming  the  surface,  went  their  way,  guided  by  routine 
methods  or  by  fragmentary  experience,  without  succeed- 
ing in  embracing  the  fixed  and  regular  laws  of  the  atmos- 
pheric or  ocean  currents.  Science,  which  has  to  its  credit 
so  many  discoveries  in  a  single  century  of  existence, 
halted  in  dismay  at  the  edge  of  the  sea.    The  scientists  in 


124  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  laboratories  only  need  material  for  their  work,  and 
that  is  easily  obtained ;  but  to  study  the  seas,  to  live  on 
them  for  years  and  years,  is  another  matter.  For  that, 
it  was  necessary  to  have  ships  and  men  at  one's  disposal, 
to  construct  new  and  costly  apparatus,  to  spend  millions, 
to  cruise  patiently  and  leisurely  here  and  there  over  the 
ocean  wastes,  with  no  fixed  goal,  waiting  for  the  great 
blue  depths  casually  to  reveal  their  secrets.  That  meant 
a  great  outlay,  with  slight  returns.  Only  a  sovereign,  a 
king,  could  do  that ;  and  that  was  what  the  former  officer 
in  the  Spanish  navy,  on  becoming  a  Prince,  had  done. 

"Thanks  to  him,"  Novoa  proceeded,  "oceanography, 
which  scarcely  amounted  to  anything,  has  become  to-day 
an  important  study.  His  yachts  have  been  floating  la- 
boratories, cruisers  of  science,  which  have  gradually  made 
the  first  conquests  of  the  deep.  With  his  drifting  buoys 
he  has  been  able  to  demonstrate  in  a  conclusive  manner 
the  circular  drift  of  the  Atlantic  currents ;  with  his  care- 
ful soundings  he  has  brought  to  light  the  mysteries  of 
deep  sea  life  at  various  levels  of  the  great  body  of  water. 
Scientists  have  been  enabled  to  sail  the  sea  and  study, 
with  no  material  restrictions,  thanks  to  him.  Through  his 
generosity  handsome  books  have  been  published,  museums 
have  been  opened,  and  excavations  have  been  made  in 
the  earth  which  throw  enlightenment  on  the  origin  of 
man." 

"And  all  this,"  the  Colonel  interrupted,  persisting  in 
the  admiration  already  expressed,  "with  the  money  from 
the  Casino!  Gambling  has  defrayed  the  expenses  of  the 
cruisers  of  science,  the  coal  and  men  for  far-off  expedi- 
tions, the  printing  of  books  and  journals,  the  subsidies  for 
young  men  anxious  to  perfect  their  scientific  training; 
the  Institute  of  Oceanography  in  Paris;  the  Museum  of 
Oceanography  in  Monaco,  where  you  are  working;  the 
Museum  of  Anthropology  and  .  .  .  And  you  have  to 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  125 

figure  that  all  this  is  merely  a  tip  left  by  the  stockholders 
of  the  gambling  corporation.  Just  imagine  what  the 
Casino  produces!  And  lots  of  people  consider  it  ter- 
rible!" 

"It  doesn't  make  any  difference  where  wealth  comes 
from  as  long  as  it  is  put  to  useful  purposes,"  said  the 
Professor,  with  a  note  of  hardness  in  his  voice.  "No  one 
asks  a  government  the  origin  of  its  funds,  when  they  are 
used  for  some  good  purpose.  Often  they  have  been  ex- 
torted with  more  cruelty  and  violence  than  those  which 
come  from  here,  where  the  people  all  flock  of  their  own 
free  will.  It  is  a  good  thing  that  the  money  of  scheming, 
foolish  people,  and  of  those  who  feel  their  lives  are  emp- 
ty and  don't  know  how  to  fill  them,  should  be  used  for 
once  to  accomplish  something  great  and  human.  Think 
what  this  Prince  of  a  tiny  State  has  done  for  science  in 
the  course  of  a  few  years.  If  only  the  great  Emperors 
would  devote  the  enormous  forces  at  their  command  to 
similar  enterprises !  If  only  Kaiser  Wilhelm  had  done 
the  same,  instead  of  preparing  for  war  all  his  life,  how 
humanity  might  have  progressed!" 

The  Colonel,  considering  himself  a  warrior  by  pro- 
fession, only  half  admitted  the  truth  of  the  Professor's 
words.  The  sword,  the  glory  won  on  the  battle-field,  were 
something  after  all,  and  the  world  would  be  ugly  without 
them,  it  seemed  to  him.  But  he  remained  silent,  not'ven- 
turing  to  spoil  his  friend's  enthusiasm. 

"All  the  sins  on  the  one  hand  are  redeemed  on  the 
other."  Saying  this,  Novoa  pointed  to  the  huge  Casino, 
with  its  multi-colored  domes  and  towers,  rising  from  the 
table-land  of  Monte  Carlo.  Then  tracing  with  his  finger 
an  imaginary  arc  above  the  harbor,  he  paused  when  it 
pointed  to  the  eminence  on  the  left,  where,  on  the  cliffs 
of  Monaco,  a  large  square  edifice  rose,  the  walls  of  which 
descended  to  the  water's  edge.    It  was  the  Museum  of 


126  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Oceanography,  a  fine  new  building  in  stone  that,  in  that 
atmosphere  so  seldom  streaked  with  rain,  still  retained 
its  waxy  whiteness. 

Don  Marcos  smiled  at  the  contrast.  "Don  Atilio  says 
the  same  thing.  Every  time  he  gazes  at  the  view  from 
here,  he  looks  at  the  two  buildings  separated  by  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor,  and  occupying  the  two  promontories.  He 
says  the  one  justifies  the  other,  and  adds:  They 
are  .  .  .'  What  is  it  he  says? — an  antithesis.  No;  it's 
something  else." 

The  metallic  booming  of  a  gong  drifted  through  the 
trees  from  Villa  Sirena,  summoning  the  guests,  who  were 
scattered  through  the  park,  or  had  not  appeared  as  yet 
from  their  rooms.  The  Colonel  listened  with  pleasure: 
"Luncheon!" 

He  gave  a  last  look  at  the  two  enormous  buildings,  one 
of  them  bristling  with  sharp  and  many  colored  pinnacles, 
the  other  plain  and  square,  of  uniform  whiteness.  Be- 
tween the  promontories,  at  the  water's  surface,  two  new 
breakwaters  meet,  closing  the  mouth  of  the  harbor.  At 
the  outermost  extremity  of  each  is  a  beacon :  one  red,  the 
other  green. 

The  Colonel  tapped  his  brow  and  looked  at  his  compa- 
triot with  a  smile.  "Oh,  yes,  I  remember.  He  says  the 
Casino  and  the  Museum  are  a  symbol." 

The  little  group  which  Castro  had  labelled  "Enemies  of 
Women"  had  now  been  in  existence  two  weeks  with  no 
disharmony  and  no  obstacles  to  the  perfect  happiness  of 
the  members.  Complete  freedom  was  theirs!  Villa  Si- 
rena belonged  to  them  all,  and  the  real  owner  seemed 
merely  like  an  additional  guest. 

Arising  late  in  the  morning,  Castro  saw  the  Prince  in 
a  corner  of  the  garden  with  his  shirt  open  at  the  neck 
and  his  bare  arms  wielding  a  spade.  The  thing  that  made 
the  new  life  complete  for  him  was  the  cultivating  of  a 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  127 

little  garden,  and  having  the  gratification  of  eating  vege- 
tables and  smelling  flowers  that  were  the  product  of  his 
own  toil.  This  man  who  had  always  been  surrounded 
by  a  corps  of  servants  to  attend  to  all  his  wants,  was 
anxious  now  to  be  self-dependent,  and  feel  the  proud 
satisfaction  of  one  who  relies  entirely  on  his  own  hands. 
Vainly  he  invited  Castro  to  join  him  in  this  healthy,  pro- 
fitable exercise,  which  was  at  the  same  time  a  return  to 
primitive  simplicity. 

"Thanks ;  I  don't  care  for  Tolstoi.  As  far  as  the  sim- 
ple life  goes  this  is  all  I  want."  And  he  stretched  out  on 
the  moss,  under  a  tree,  while  the  Prince  went  on  digging 
his  garden.  They  talked  for  a  while  of  their  companions. 
Novoa  was  in  the  library,  or  wandering  about  the  park. 
Some  mornings  he  would  take  the  early  train  for  Monaco 
to  continue  his  studies  at  the  Museum.  As  for  Spadoni, 
he  never  arose  before  noon,  and  often  the  Colonel  would 
have  to  pound  on  his  door  so  that  he  would  not  be  late 
for  lunch. 

"He  never  gets  to  sleep  until  dawn,"  said  Castro.  "He 
spends  the  night  studying  his  notes  on  the  way  the  gam- 
bling has  been  going.  He  gets  into  my  room  sometimes 
when  I'm  asleep,  to  tell  me  one  of  his  everlasting  sys- 
tems that  he  has  just  discovered ;  and  I  have  to  threaten 
him  with  a  slipper.  In  his  room,  among  the  music  albums, 
he  keeps  piles  of  green  sheets  that  give  each  day's  plays 
for  a  year  at  all  the  various  tables  in  the  Casino.  He's 
crazy." 

But  Castro  took  care  not  to  add  that  he  often  asked 
Spadoni  to  lend  him  his  "archives"  in  order  to  verify  his 
own  calculations;  and  in  spite  of  his  making  fun  of  the 
latter's  discoveries,  he  used  to  risk  a  little  money  on  them, 
through  a  gambler's  superstition  that  attaches  great  value 
to  the  intuitions  of  the  simple-minded. 

After  luncheon,  Castro  and  Spadoni  would  both  hurry 


128  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

off  to  the  Casino.  The  Prince,  when  not  attending  a  con- 
cert, remained  with  Novoa  and  the'Colonel  in  a  loggia  on 
the  upper  story,  looking  out  over  the  sea.  The  war  had 
filled  that  part  of  the  Mediterranean  with  shipping.  In 
normal  times  the  sea  presented  a  deserted  monotonous 
appearance,  with  nothing  to  arrest  the  eye  save  the  wheel- 
ing of  the  gulls,  the  foamy  leaps  of  the  dolphins  and  the 
sail  of  an  occasional  fishing  boat.  The  steamers  and 
the  large  sailing  vessels  were  scarcely  ever  to  be  seen 
even  as  tiny  shadows  on  the  horizon,  following  their 
course  direct  from  Marseilles  to  Genoa,  without  follow- 
ing the  extensive  shore  line  of  the  Riviera  gulf.  But  now 
the  submarine  menace  had  obliged  the  merchant  ships  to 
slip  along  within  shelter  of  the  coast.  Convoys  passed 
nearly  every  day;  freighters  of  various  nationalities, 
daubed  like  zebras  to  reduce  their  visibility,  and  escorted 
by  French  and  Italian  torpedo-boats. 

These  rosaries  of  boats  so  close  to  the  coast  that  one 
could  read  their  names  and  distinguish  their  captains 
standing  on  the  bridge,  caused  the  Prince  and  the  Pro- 
fessor to  talk  of  the  horrors  of  war. 

At  times  the  Colonel  entered  the  conversation,  but  only 
to  lament  the  difficulties  which  such  a  war  presented  to 
the  fulfillment  of  his  duties  as  steward.  Each  day  his 
task  was  becoming  more  difficult.  He  was  no  longer  able 
to  find  anything  worth  serving  at  a  table  like  that  of  the 
Prince,  and  even  so,  the  prices  that  he  paid  roused  his 
indignation  when  he  compared  them  with  those  of  peace 
times!  And  the  servants!  He  had  sent  to  Spain  for 
some,  now  that  all  those  from  the  district  were  in  the 
army;  but  the  hotel  proprietors  had  immediately  enticed 
them  away.  They  all  preferred  to  serve  in  cafes  or  in 
places  where  people  are  continually  coming  and  going, 
tempted  by  the  chance  of  getting  tips  and  of  associating 
with  the  white-aproned  chamber-maids. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  129 

He  had  improvised  dining-room  service  with  the  two 
Italian  boys  from  the  Brodhigera,  whose  famiUes  were 
living  in  Monaco.  The  older  and  livelier  of  the  two  had 
the  name  of  Pistola,  and  treated  his  companion  in  despo- 
tic fashion,  bullying  him  with  kicks  and  cuffs  when  the 
Colonel's  back  was  turned.  Atilio,  for  the  sake  of  the 
rhyme,  had  nicknamed  Pistola's  comrade,  Estola,  and 
every  one  in  the  house  accepted  the  name,  even  the  boy 
himself. 

"When  you  think  of  the  work  it  cost  me  to  make  de- 
cent respectable  looking  servants  out  of  them!"  groaned 
Toledo.  "And  now  it  seems  that  they  are  going  to  be 
called  back  to  Italy  as  soldiers.  More  men  off  for  the 
war!  Even  these  young  lads  that  haven't  reached  the 
age  yet !    What  shall  we  do  when  Estola  and  Pistola  go  ?" 

Many  evenings,  at  the  dinner  hour,  the  rules  of  the 
community  were  rudely  broken.  The  first  to  desert  was 
Spadoni.  He  arrived  sometimes  after  midnight,  saying 
that  he  had  dined  with  some  friends.  At  other  times 
he  did  not  return  at  all.  After  a  few  days  had  gone  by 
he  would  quietly  appear,  with  the  serene  ingenuousness 
of  a  stray  dog,  just  as  though  he  had  gone  out  only  a  few 
hours  before.  No  one  could  ever  find  out  exactly  where 
he  had  been.  He  himself  was  not  sure.  "I  met  some 
friends."  And  in  the  same  half  hour,  these  friends 
would  be  at  one  moment  some  Englishmen  from  Nice,  or 
at  another  a  family  from  Cap-Martin,  as  though  he  had 
been  in  both  places  at  the  same  time. 

Atilio  also  used  to  absent  himself.  A  gambling  com- 
panion had  shown  him,  in  the  Casino,  the  little  cards  di- 
vided into  columns,  which  are  used  to  note  the  alterna- 
ting frequency  of  "red"  and  "black."  Various  ladies  had 
taken  similar  documents  from  their  hand-bags,  where 
they  lay  among  the  handkerchiefs,  the  powder  boxes,  the 
lip  sticks,  the  banknotes,  and  the  various  colored  chips> 


130  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

which  are  used  as  money  in  the  gaming.  The  indications 
all  agreed.  During  the  morning  and  afternoon  the  "bets" 
were  all  lost,  and  the  house  was  winning ;  but  from  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening  on,  undreamed-of  fortune  smiled 
on  the  players.  The  statistics  could  not  be  clearer ;  there 
was  no  possible  doubt.  And  Castro  would  renounce  the 
excellent  food  of  Villa  Sirena,  satisfied  with  a  glass  of 
beer  and  a  sandwich  at  the  bar.  Then  at  midnight  he 
would  return  in  a  hired  carriage,  paying  the  astonished 
driver  with  prodigality.  At  other  times  he  would  stand 
in  front  of  the  gate  fishing  in  his  pockets  to  get  together 
enough  to  pay  for  the  cab.  Fate  had  lied.  Nor,  on 
those  occasions,  would  any  of  the  prophets  of  the  little 
cards  have  been  able  to  lend  him  a  cent. 

Toledo  muttered  protests.  This  lack  of  orderly  habits 
made  him  lament  once  more  the  scarcity  of  servants. 
The  help  always  got  up  late  on  account  of  having  to  sit 
up  and  wait  at  night.  For  that  reason,  on  the  nights 
when  all  the  companions  of  the  Prince  were  present,  the 
Colonel  felt  the  satisfaction  of  the  Governor  of  a  fortress 
when  he  sees  all  the  posterns  locked  and  feels  the  keys 
in  his  pocket.  After  dinner  they  would  listen  to  Spadoni. 
Seated  at  a  grand  piano,  he  would  play  according  to  his 
mood  or  according  to  the  wishes  of  the  Prince.  Lubimoff 
was  a  melomaniac  whose  musical  taste  was  cloyed,  per- 
verted, by  an  excessive  refinement.  He  cared  only  for 
rare  works,  and  obscure  composers. 

Castro,  who  was  himself  a  pianist,  at  times  was  unable 
to  hide  his  enthusiasm  for  the  wonderful  execution  of  the 
Italian  virtuoso. 

"And  just  think  that  after  all  he  is  an  idiot!"  he  ex- 
claimed, with  the  frankness  of  a  man  who  is  carried  away 
t)y  his  feelings.  "All  his  faculties  are  warped,  and  nar- 
rowed, concentrated  on  a  single  purpose,  music,  without 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  13* 

leaving  anything  for  anything  else.     However,  what's 
the  difference  ?    He's  an  idiot — ^but  a  sublime  idiot." 

There  were  nights  when  Spadoni  remained  with  his 
elbow  on  the  keyboard  and  his  brow  resting  in  his  right 
hand,  as  though  completely  absorbed  in  music.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  the  visions  that  were  then  whirling  in  his  head, 
beneath  those  long  locks,  were  red  and  black  squares, 
many  cards,  and  thirty-six  numbers  in  three  rows  begin- 
ning with  a  zero.  The  Prince,  annoyed  by  the  silence, 
turned  to  Castro. 

"Tell  us  something  about  your  grandfather,  Don  En- 
rique." 

This  grandfather  had  married  an  aunt  of  General  Sal- 
dafia,  and  although  Atilio  had  never  known  him  person- 
ally he  often  talked  about  him,  as  a  curious  sort  of  per- 
son who  aroused  either  his  admiration  or  his  bitter  irony, 
according  to  the  mood  he  happened  to  be  in.  This  an- 
cestor was  a  man  of  warlike  temperament  and  rather  per- 
verse enthusiasms,  who  had  succeeded  in  depleting  the 
family  fortune,  already  undermined  by  his  predecessors. 
Related  to  a  great  many  nobles,  he  usually  would  deny 
the  relationship  if  forced  to  the  point,  as  though  it  were 
something  of  which  to  be  ashamed.  Other  members  of 
the  family  might  take  the  title  of  nobility  if  they  chose. 
The  motto  which  had  figured  for  centuries  on  the  Castro 
shield  was  an  accurate  summary  of  the  man's  character : 
"To-morrow  more  revolutionary  than  to-day."  For  thirty 
years  there  had  not  been  a  successful  or  abortive  insur- 
rection in  Spain  in  which  this  somber-looking  gentleman 
had  not  had  a  hand.  He  was  very  sensitive  to  insult  and 
a  great  swordsman.  He  treated  men  like  a  despot  and 
at  the  same  time  he  was  ready  to  die  for  the  liberty  of 
mankind. 


132  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

*'A  red  Don  Quixote !"  said  Castro. 

He  remembered  having  played  with  the  old  man's 
sword,  as  a  child.  It  was  a  Toledo  weapon,  inlaid  with 
golden  arabesques  copied  from  the  old  sword  of  the  ex- 
plorer and  conquistador,  Alvaro  de  Castro,  who  had  been 
Governor  of  the  Indies.  But  toward  the  hilt  of  the  blade, 
where  his  ancestors  had  been  wont  to  inscribe  an  expres- 
sion of  fidelity  to  their  God  and  King,  Don  Enrique  had 
had  engraved :  "Long  live  the  Republic !"  Without  this 
knightly  sword,  he  refused  to  take  part  in  a  revolution. 
He  had  carried  it  from  Sicily  to  Naples,  following  Gari- 
baldi to  dethrone  the  Bourbons.  "To-morrow  more  revo- 
lutionary than  to-day !"  His  companions  soon  appeared 
to  him  unspeakable  reactionaries,  and  this  caused  him  to 
seek  new  doctrines  which  would  fully  satisfy  his  insati- 
able eagerness  for  destruction  and  innovation.  Finally, 
this  descendant  of  Governors  and  Viceroys  wound  up  in 
the  "First  International."  And  the  most  extraordinary 
thing  of  all  was  that  in  his  new  life  he  never  lost  the 
traces  of  his  early  education,  his  arrogance  and  his 
knightly  ways,  which  caused  him  to  consider  the  slightest 
difference  of  opinion  as  "an  affair  of  honor." 

Over  a  discussion  in  a  committee  meeting,  he  had 
fought  a  "comrade"  laborer  in  Paris.  No  sooner  had 
they  crossed  swords  than  the  workman  received  a  cut 
across  the  head. 

"It  is  quite  just,"  said  the  wounded  man,  wiping  away 
the  blood.  "The  Marquis,  who  has  been  able  to  learn  the 
use  of  weapons,  ought  of  course  to  beat  a  mere  man  of 
the  people." 

Don  Enrique  turned  pale  at  the  irony,  and  to  restore 
equality,  and  eliminate  his  traditional  advantages,  he 
raised  his  sword  and  gave  himself  a  terrible  cut  across 
the  skull,  while  the  witnesses  ran  forward  to  seize  him 
and  prevent  him  from  doing  it  again. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  133 

After  accompanying  Garibaldi  once  more,  in  the  War 
of  1870,  fighting  the  Prussians  at  Dijon,  he  was  drawn  to 
Paris  by  the  revolutionary  movement  of  the  Commune. 

"I  think  they  made  him  a  general,"  Atilio  said.  "He 
must  have  suffered  heavily  in  that  tragic  farce.  It  is 
certain  that  he  was  executed  by  the  government  troops, 
and  no  one  knows  where  he  is  buried." 

Atilio's  admiration  for  his  grandfather,  whose  life  had 
been  so  romantic,  was  dampened  by  the  thought  of  his 
mother.  Poor,  an  orphan,  and  forgotten  by  her  relatives, 
she  had  been  obliged  to  marry  a  man  old  enough  to  be  her 
father,  and  led  the  wandering  life,  outside  of  Spain,  that 
is  forced  upon  the  wives  of  consuls.  Atilio  was  bom  in 
Leghorn,  and  was  given  the  name  of  his  godfather,  an 
old  Italian  gentleman,  who  was  a  friend  of  the  Spanish 
Consul.  The  memory  of  his  grandfather,  saddened  from 
time  to  time  the  life  of  his  poor,  resigned,  and  devout 
mother.  In  Rome,  visiting  Spaniards,  all  persons  ot 
conventional  ideas  who  came  to  see  the  Pope,  would  look 
askance  on  learning  of  her  birth:  "Oh,  so  you  are  the 
daughter  of  Enrique  de  Castro!"  And  she  would  seem 
to  shrink,  and  beg  their  pardon  with  her  sad,  humble 
eyes. 

"I  don't  disown  my  grandfather,"  Castro  added.  **I 
would  like  to  have  known  him.  The  only  thing  I  blame 
him  for  is  that  he  left  us  so  poor ;  though  his  forefathers 
had  already  done  more  than  he  to  ruin  us." 

On  days  when  Atilio  had  lost,  he  was  more  prone  t» 
complain,  recalling  the  immense  estates  of  the  Castros, 
gained  in  the  conquests  in  America. 

"To-day  there  are  large  cities  on  the  fields  given  by  the 
king  to  my  forefathers.  One  of  my  remote  ancestors 
grazed  horses,  and  built  a  colonial  country  house  on  land 
where  at  the  present  time  you  will  find  gardens,  monu- 
ments, and  big  hotels.    There  were  hundreds  of  millions 


134  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  square  yards ;  at  a  franc  a  yard,  imagine,  Michael !  I 
would  be  richer  than  you,  richer  than  all  the  millionaires 
in  the  world.  And  I'm  only  a  well-dressed  beggar.  Good 
God !  Why  didn't  my  ancestors  keep  their  land,  instead 
of  devoting  themselves  to  serving  the  king  and  the  peo- 
ple ?  Why  didn't  they  do  like  any  peasant  who  keeps  re- 
ligiously what  has  been  left  him  by  his  ancestors  ?" 

Other  evenings,  seated  in  the  loggia,  the  Prince  lis- 
tened to  Novoa  and  gazed  at  the  nocturnal  scene  of  sea 
and  sky.  There  was  no  light,  save  the  veiled  gleam  from 
the  distant  drawing-room.  The  coast  was  dark.  The  sil- 
houette of  Monte  Carlo  stood  out  against  the  starry  back- 
ground, without  a  single  dot  of  red.  There  were  few 
street  lights  in  the  city,  and  besides,  the  glass  of  those 
few  was  painted  blue.  The  lamps  on  the  stairway  of  the 
Casino  were  shrouded  like  those  of  a  hearse.  The  Ger- 
man submarine  menace  kept  the  whole  Principality,  as 
well  as  the  French  coast,  in  darkness.  Only  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  harbor  of  Monaco,  the  two  octagonal  tow- 
ers kept  on  their  summit  a  red  and  a  green  beacon,  which 
threw  out  over  the  water  one  shifting  path  of  rubies,  and 
another  of  emeralds. 

In  the  darkness,  standing  and  looking  at  the  stars,  No- 
voa talked  about  the  poetry  of  space,  about  distances  that 
defy  human  calculations.  It  was  impossible  for  Spadoni 
to  follow  this  talk  with  the  same  attention  as  the  Prince 
and  Castro.  What  did  the  so-called  tri-colored  star  mat- 
ter to  him  ?  The  millions  and  millions  of  leagues  that  the 
scientist  spoke  of  merely  made  him  yawn;  and  through 
an  association  of  ideas,  he  became  absorbed  in  gambling, 
mentally,  imagining  that  he  was  winning  fifty  times  in 
succession,  doubling  each  time. 

He  wagered  a  simple  five  franc  piece — the  smallest  bet 
allowed  in  the  Casino — and  at  the  end  of  the  twenty-fifth 
bet  he  stopped  as  though  horror-struck.    He  had  woa 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  135 

more  than  a  hundred  and  sixty-seven  million  francs.  In 
only  twenty-five  minutes!  The  Casino  was  closing  its 
doors,  declaring  the  bank  broken!  But  this  was  not 
enough  to  bring  him  out  of  his  dream.  The  marvellous 
five  franc  piece  remained  on  the  green  cloth  beside  a 
mountain  of  money  which  kept  growing  and  growing. 
He  must  finish  the  fifty  bets,  always  doubling.  He  con- 
tinued for  five  more  times  and  then  stopped.  He  had  al- 
ready won  more  than  five  thousand  million  francs.  They 
would  have  to  hand  over  the  entire  Principality  of  Mo- 
naco to  him,  and  even  that  would  not  be  enough  perhaps 
to  pay  the  debt.  The  thirty-fifth  time  the  simple  "na- 
poleon" had  become  a  hundred  seventy-one  billions  of 
francs.  They  wouldn't  pay  him;  he  was  sure  of  that.  It 
would  be  necessary  for  all  the  great  powers  of  Europe  to 
ally  themselves  as  though  for  a  great  war,  and  even  then 
perhaps,  he,  the  pianist,  Teofilo  Spadoni,  would  not  ac- 
cept the  credit  they  might  oflfer  him. 

He  could  no  longer  make  the  calculations  mentally. 
The  twentieth  time  he  had  been  obliged  to  have  resource 
to  the  pencil  which  he  used  in  the  Casino  to  note  results 
of  the  various  plays,  and  to  the  cards  divided  in  columns 
which  were  distributed  by  the  employees.  The  back  of 
the  card  was  rather  narrow  for  his  winnings,  which  kept 
growing  so  tremendously  that  they  had  reached  fantastic 
sums.  He  continued  his  triumphant  playing.  At  the 
fortieth  winning  he  stopped.  Five  million  million  francs. 
Decidedly  neither  Europe  nor  the  entire  world  wouid  be 
able  to  pay  him.  The  nations  would  have  to  put  them- 
selves up  for  sale,  the  globe  would  be  put  on  public  auc- 
tion, the  women  would  all  have  to  sell  their  bodies  and 
give  him  the  proceeds ;  and  even  so  it  would  be  necessary 
to  ask  him  for  several  thousands  of  years  in  which  to  pay 
the  debt  to  him,  the  creditor  of  the  universe,  seated  on 
his  piano  stool  as  though  on  a  throne. 


136  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

But  although  he  was  certain  that  he  was  being  deceived, 
since  no  one  on  earth  or  heaven  could  guarantee  the 
bank,  he  went  on  playing.  There  were  only  ten  more  bets 
to  be  made.  And  when  he  had  made  the  fiftieth  he  had 
a  sudden  stroke  of  generosity.  In  his  mind  he  gave  the 
employees  of  the  Casino  thousands,  millions,  and  mil- 
lions of  millions.  For  himself  he  only  kept  the  amount 
that  figured  at  the  head  of  his  winnings,  and  wrote  on 
his  card: 

5,000,000,000,000,000  francs. 

Five  thousand  billions !  For  fifty  minutes'  work,  that 
wasn't  bad. 

Suddenly  his  attention  was  attracted  by  the  silence  in 
which  the  Prince  and  Castro  were  listening  to  Novoa,  and 
he  fixed  his  visionary  gaze  on  the  latter,  his  eyes  still  daz- 
zled by  the  golden  whirl  of  the  Vision. 

The  scientist  too  was  talking  about  millions  of  millions, 
figures  which  words  would  not  express,  and  was  going 
into  detail,  repeating  dozens  of  ciphers  one  after  the 
other.  He  thought  he  heard  the  professor  surmising  the 
age  which  the  sun  would  reach  in  time — here  an  intermin- 
able figure — the  disappearance  of  the  present  forms  of 
life,  the  recession  of  the  heavenly  body  towards  an  ex- 
ceedingly remote  constellation,  and  its  final  extinction 
and  death — here  another  appalling  sum. 

Spadoni  smiled  disdainfully.  The  sun,  the  constella- 
tion of  Hercules,  the  hundred  million  years  that  it  would 
take  for  the  former  to  reach  the  earth,  the  seventeen  mil- 
lion years  that  it  would  require  to  lose  its  incandescence, 
and  cease  furnishing  warmth  for  life  on  earth,  and  all 
the  other  calculations  of  the  scientist  were  as  nothing, 
mere  nothing !  If  he  were  to  put  his  money  on  the  green 
table  fifty  times  more,  the  figures  obtained  by  astronomy 
would  appear  paltry  and  ridiculous  beside  the  winnings 
obtained  in  an  hour  and  forty  minutes.    God  alone  could 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  137 

be  the  banker,  and  pay  with  stars  as  though  they  were 
money ;  and  who  knows  if  God  himself  would  be  able  to 
withstand  the  hundredth  time  the  five  franc  piece  was 
■wagered,  always  doubling,  and  if  he.  would  not  have  to 
declare  his  bank  was  broken? 

Spadoni  remained  for  some  time  absorbed  in  inner  con- 
templation of  his  greatness.  Coming  out  of  his  revery  he 
became  aware  of  Novoa's  voice  which  still  sounded  a  note 
of  mystery,  before  that  dark  horizon,  dotted  above  with 
the  points  of  light  from  the  stars,  and  undulating  below 
with  the  phosphorescence  of  the  waves. 

The  Prince  urged  him  to  talk  of  the  sea  as  the  regu- 
lator and  origin  of  life.  The  pianist  heard  it  said  that 
the  sea  covers  three-fourths  of  the  globe,  and,  as  it  repre- 
sents a  large  preponderance  over  the  continents,  the  lat- 
ter, though  they  consider  themselves  superior,  are  dom- 
inated by  the  former,  just  as  governments  are  obliged  to 
yield  to  universal  suffrage  and  respect  the  strength  of 
majorities.  All  the  great  atmospheric  laws  are  estab- 
lished, not  on  the  lesser  surface  of  the  land,  which  is 
rough  and  broken,  but  on  the  vast  ocean  spaces,  which 
allow  the  molecules  freely  to  obey  the  mechanical  laws 
of  fluids. 

Spadoni  touched  Castro  on  the  elbow,  and  tried  to  tell 
him  in  a  low  voice  about  the  unheard-of  winnings  that  he 
had  just  made.  But  Atilio,  without  turning  around, 
brushed  the  interrupting  hand  aside,  and  went  on  listen- 
ing. 

Novoa  was  talking  about  the  hot  waters  which  con- 
densed on  the  globe  in  the  primordial  atmosphere,  and 
had  been  precipitated  on  the  crust  of  the  earth  which  was 
then  in  formation,  dissolving  and  tearing  down  every- 
thing in  their  way  on  the  new-born  surface. 

"With  the  salt  that  there  is  in  the  ocean,"  Novoa  said, 
"one  could  reconstruct  the  entire  African  continent." 


138  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  pianist  stirred  once  more  in  his  seat.  An  Africa 
made  of  salt !    What  could  you  do  with  it  ? 

"Castro,  listen  to  me,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "I  put 
five  francs  on  a  certain  bet,  fifty  times  in  succession, 
doubling  each  time,  do  you  know  ?" 

But  the  latter  was  not  interested,  and  rejected  the 
piece  of  cardboard  held  out  to  him. 

Spadoni,  offended,  shut  his  eyes,  deciding  to  isolate 
himself  from  the  rest,  and  not  listen  to  what  did  not 
seem  to  him  of  any  importance.  If  the  scientist  was  go- 
ing to  talk  every  evening,  he  would  dispense  with  the 
hospitality  of  the  Prince,  and  go  in  search  of  other 
friends. 

Suddenly,  a  word  caught  his  ear  and  drew  him  from 
his  shell,  causing  him  to  open  his  eyes.  The  Professor 
was  talking  about  the  gold  that  had  been  washed  away  by 
the  boiling  rains  at  the  creation  of  the  globe,  and  was  still 
present  in  solution  in  the  sea. 

"There  are  only  a  few  milligrams  in  each  ton  of  water, 
but  with  all  that  there  is  in  the  ocean  one  could  form  a 
heap  so  immense,  that,  if  it  were  divided  equally  among 
the  thousand  five  hundred  million  inhabitants  of  the 
earth,  we  would  each  get  an  eighty-five  thousand  pound 
ingot,  or  some  forty  tons  of  gold." 

The  pianist  craned  his  neck  in  amazement.  What  was 
the  Professor  saying? 

"And,"  Novoa  continued,  "according  to  the  value  of 
gold  before  the  war,  each  person's  ingot  would  represent 
some  hundred  and  twenty  million  francs." 

The  siknce  was  broken  by  a  whistling  sound.  Castro 
turned  his  head,  thinking  that  Spadoni  was  snoring.  Ob- 
serving the  pianist's  staring  eyes,  he  realized  that  this  was 
a  sigh,  of  real  emotion,  an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"I'll  give  my  share  for  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in 
bank-notes,"  he  said  in  solemn  tones. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  139 

And  as  the  others  laughed,  he  remained  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  Novoa.  The  sea !  Who  would  have  thought  that 
the  sea !  .  .  .  That  scientist  knew  a  great  deal ;  and  as 
for  himself,  with  sudden  awe  and  respect,  he  determined 
that  hereafter  he  would  always  listen  to  him. 

One  night,  Atilio  and  the  Prince  were  eating  alone. 
On  leaving  the  Casino,  the  pianist  had  gone  off  to  Nice 
with  some  English  friends  of  his,  who  played  poker  in 
their  landau.  Novoa  had  been  invited  to  dine  with  a  col- 
league from  the  Museum  and  would  not  be  back  until 
midnight. 

Michael  was  thinking  of  his  impressions  of  that  after- 
noon. He  had  gone  to  the  Casino  to  attend  a  classical 
concert,  determined  to  face  the  obsequious  curiosity  of 
the  employees,  and  take  the  risk  of  running  across  former 
friends.  From  the  outer  stairway  to  the  door  of  the 
theater  he  had  been  obliged  to  reply  to  the  series  of  deep 
bows  from  the  various  functionaries,  some  with  military 
caps  and  gold  buttons,  others  in  solemn  frock  coats,  stiff 
and  dignified  like  lawyers  in  a  play.  The  people  who 
were  passing  through  the  portico  noticed  him  imme- 
diately. "Prince  Lubimoff!"  They  all  remembered  his 
yacht,  his  adventures,  and  his  parties,  and  repeated  his 
name  like  the  glorious  echo  of  a  resurrected  past.  He 
had  been  obliged  to  hurry  through  the  groups  at  top 
speed,  with  a  vague  stare,  feigning  absentmindedness,  so 
as  not  to  see  certain  well-known  smiles,  and  certain  in- 
viting faces  which  evoked  sweet  visions  of  by-gone  days. 

In  the  auditorium  he  looked  for  a  seat  where  he  would 
be  entirely  inconspicuous,  some  comer  divan,  close  to 
the  wall ;  but  even  there  he  was  annoyed  by  the  curiosity 
of  the  crowd.  Around  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  were 
the  most  famous  musicians,  those  who  prided  themselves 
on  the  title  of  "Soloists  to  His  Most  Serene  Highness  the 


I40  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Prince  of  Monaco."  Some  of  them  had  sailed  with 
Prince  Michael  on  his  yacht,  as  members  of  the  orchestra. 
During  a  pause  in  the  music,  the  first  violin,  in  looking 
around  the  room  to  see  if  he  could  recognize  any  of  his 
admirers,  discovered  Lubimoff,  and  communicated  his 
surprise  at  once  to  the  other  soloists.  They  all  smiled  in 
his  direction,  and  showed  on  their  faces  that  they  were 
dedicating  to  him  alone  the  music  which  was  rising  from 
their  instruments.  Finally  the  public  began  to  notice  the 
gentleman  who  was  half  hidden,  and  who  was  gradually 
attracting  the  attention  of  the  entire  orchestra. 

When  the  concert  was  over  Lubimoff  left  hurriedly, 
afraid  of  being  stopped  by  certain  former  women  friends 
whom  he  had  observed  in  the  audience.  He  crossed  the 
portico  brusquely,  elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd 
that  barred  the  way.  Here  his  attention  was  caught  by 
a  person  of  majestic  bearing  and  exclusive  showy  ap- 
pearance, with  a  derby  of  smooth  gray  silk,  a  honey 
colored  overcoat  with  velvet  sleeves  of  the  same  shade, 
and  white  gloves  and  shoes.  His  gray  side-whiskers 
joined  his  mustache ;  his  hair  was  parted  away  down  to 
his  neck,  and  over  his  ears  strayed  two  locks  of  hair, 
cut  short  and  dyed  and  shining  with  cosmetics. 

"I  thought  it  was  a  Russian  general  or  some  Austrian 
of  note  dressed  for  winter,  with  an  elegance  worthy  of 
the  Riviera,  and  I  find  it's  you,  my  dear  Colonel.  I  hadn't 
seen  you  outside  of  Villa  Sirena  before." 

Toledo  blushed,  not  knowing  whether  to  feel  proud  or 
annoyed,  at  these  words. 

"Your  Excellency,  I  always  liked  to  dress  well, 
and  .  .  .'* 

"Who  was  the  lady  you  were  talking  with?" 

"It  was  the  Infanta.  She  was  telling  me  that  she  had 
lost  seven  thousand  francs  that  were  sent  to  her  from 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  141 

Italy,  and  that  she  hasn't  the  money  to  pay  her  living  ex- 
penses, and  .  .  ." 

"The  tall,  thin  one,  with  the  big  cow-boy  hat  ?  No,  not 
that  one.    I  was  asking  you  about  the  other." 

He  had  only  seen  "the  other"  from  behind,  but  she  had 
attracted  his  attention  for  the  moment  because  of  her 
svelte  figure  and  her  queenly  carriage. 

"Your  Excellency,"  said  Don  Marcos,  hesitatingly, 
"that  was  the  Duchess  de  Delille." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  as  though  the 
Prince  had  caught  him  doing  something  wrong,  that  he 
must  apologize  for,  he  hastened  to  add: 

"She  is  very  kind  to  the  Infanta.  She  gives  her  chil- 
dren clothes,  and  I  think  she  even  lends  her  dresses. 
The  daughter  of  a  King!  The  grand-daughter  of  San 
Fernando !  I  am  an  old  legitimist  soldier,  and  the  least 
I  can  do  is  be  grateful  that    ..." 

Michael  cut  his  excuses  short  with  a  gesture.  That 
was  enough :  he  did  not  want  to  hear  any  more.  And  he 
turned  to  Castro.  He  had  seen  him  too,  near  the  en- 
trance to  the  Casino,  talking  to  another  lady. 

"And  I  saw  you,  too,"  said  Atilio,  "but  you  were  in 
such  a  rush,  going  along  with  your  head  down,  making 
your  way  like  a  mad  bull.  Do  you  want  to  know  who 
the  lady  is  ?    Does  she  interest  you  ?" 

Lubimoff  shrugged  his  shoulders;  but  his  indifference 
was  feigned.  As  a  matter  of  fact  she  had  interested 
him,  although  slightly.  The  unknown  woman  was  tall 
and  blond,  with  an  air  of  lithe  strength,  with  the  freedom 
of  movement  of  a  gymnast  or  an  amazon. 

"Well,  that's  the  'Generala/  "  Castro  continued  without 
observing  that  his  friend  was  not  paying  much  heed. 
"The  title  of  'Generala'  isn't  to  be  taken  seriously.  It's  a 
pet  name.    I  think  the  Duchess  invented  it,  for  I  warn 


142  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

you  the  two  are  very  good  friends.  She's  a  'General'  in 
the  same  way  that  certain  other  people  are  Colonels." 

Don  Marcos  overlooked  this  bit  of  irony.  Atilio  was 
evidently  in  a  bad  humor  that  evening.  His  nerves  were 
on  edge,  and  he  seemed  ready  to  snap  at  any  one.  He 
must  have  lost  in  the  gambling. 

"They  call  her  the  'Generala'  because  of  her  somewhat 
masculine  character,  and  the  brusque  way  she  has  of 
treating  people  at  times.  An  extraordinary  woman !  A 
real  amazon !  She  shoots,  does  gymnastics,  swims  in  the 
rivers  in  mid-winter,  and  what's  more  she  has  a  voice  like 
the  sighing  of  the  breeze,  and  looks  as  though  she  were 
going  to  faint  at  the  least  emotion,  like  a  timid  girl.  Do 
you  want  to  know  who  she  is?  Her  name  is  Clorinda, 
a  name  of  ancient  poetry,  or  ancient  comedy.  I  always 
call  her  Dona  Clorinda;  it  seems  as  though  it  would  be 
disrespectful  if  I  didn't,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  is 
still  young.  Perhaps  two  or  three  years  younger  than 
her  friend  Alicia.  The  two  hate  each  other,  and  they 
can't  live  apart.  One  week  each  month  they  clash,  call 
each  other  names,  and  tell  the  most  horrible  tales  about 
each  other ;  then  they  look  each  other  up ;  'How  are  you, 
my  dear  ?'    'Are  you  angry  with  me,  angel  ?'  " 

The  Prince  smiled  at  Atilio's  imitation  of  the  words 
and  gestures  of  the  two  ladies. 

"Clorinda  is  an  American,"  Castro  continued,  "but 
from  South  America,  from  a  little  Republic  where  her 
grandfathers  and  great-grandfathers  were  Presidents, 
and  fighters,  and  fathers  of  their  country.  Her  title  of 
'Generala'  has  a  certain  basis.  Over  there  in  her  native 
land  they  admire  her  for  her  beauty  and  for  the  great 
sensation  she  is  supposed  to  have  caused  in  Europe.  At  a 
distance,  you  see,  everything  is  changed  and  seems  much 
greater.  Her  picture  is  public  property,  and  figures  on 
every  package  of  coffee,  and  every  advertising  prospectus 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  143 

in  the  country.  She  is  a  national  beauty ;  and  when  she 
gets  old,  there  will  always  be  a  spot  in  the  world  where 
she  will  be  considered  eternally  youthful.  She  got  mar- 
ried in  Paris  to  a  young  Frenchman,  a  dreamer,  rather 
ill  with  tuberculosis.  That  was  the  very  reason  why  the 
'Generala'  loved  him.  If  she  had  married  a  strong,  fiery 
sort  of  man,  they  would  have  killed  each  other  in  a  few 
days.  She  is  a  widow  now.  I  don't  think  she  is  very 
rich ;  the  war  must  have  diminished  her  income,  but  she 
has  enough  to  live  comfortably.  I  even  imagine  she  must 
suffer  fewer  hardships  than  does  the  Delille  woman.  She 
is  an  exceedingly  well-balanced  person." 

He  remained  silent  for  a  moment. 

"But  she  has  such  queer  ideas !  She  is  so  used  to  domi- 
nating! I  met  her  in  Biarritz  some  years  ago.  I  have 
seen  her  here  often  in  the  gaming  rooms ;  we  have  bowed 
to  each  other  and  had  a  few  conversations  which  did  not 
amount  to  much.  When  a  woman  is  placing  her  stakes 
she  doesn't  allow  compliments  that  might  distract  her 
attention.  To-day  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  talked  with 
her  at  any  length.  Do  you  know  what  she  asked  me,  the 
very  first  thing?  Why  I  wasn't  in  the  war.  It  didn't 
make  any  diflFerence  when  I  told  her  that  I'm  neutral,  and 
that  the  war  doesn't  interest  me.  'If  I  were  a  man,  I 
would  be  a  soldier,'  she  said.  And  if  you  had  only  seen 
the  look  she  gave  when  she  said  it!" 

Lubimoif  smiled  a  bit  scornfully  at  the  woman's  words. 

"In  her  opinion,"  Castro  went  on  saying,  "every  man 
ought  to  work  at  something,  produce  something,  be  a 
hero.  She  adored  her  poor  husband,  gentle  as  a  sick 
lamb,  because  he  painted  a  few  pale,  washed-out  pic- 
tures, and  had  been  rewarded  in  some  slight  degree  at 
various  expositions.  Men  like  you  and  me,  in  her  eyes, 
are  a  variety  of  'supers'  hired  to  give  life  to  the  drawing- 
rooms,  casinos,  and  bathing  resorts,  to  keep  the  conversa- 


144  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tion  going,  and  be  nice  to  the  ladies ;  but  we  don't  inter- 
est  her.     She  told  me  so  this  afternoon  once  again." 

"Does  her  opinion  bother  you  ?"  asked  the  Prince. 

Atilio  paused  for  a  moment,  as  though  to  weigh  his 
words  before  replying. 

"Yes,  it  does  bother  me,"  he  resolutely  answered  at 
last.  "Why  should  I  deny  it?  That  woman  interests 
me.  When  I  don't  see  her,  I  forget  all  about  her. 
Months  and  years  have  gone  by  without  my  giving  her 
a  thought.  But  as  soon  as  I  meet  her  she  dominates  me. 
...  I  want  her.  I  know  I  can't  come  up  to  you  in  such 
matters,  but  I've  had  successful  love  affairs  too.  But 
she  is  so  different  from  the  others !  Besides,  there's  the 
joy  in  conquering,  the  need  of  dominating,  that  you  find 
at  the  bottom  of  all  our  amorous  desires!  Every  time 
we  talk  together,  and  she  makes  quite  evident,  with  her 
bird-like  voice  and  her  smile  of  compassion,  the  distance 
that  separates  us,  I  come  away  sad,  or  rather,  discour- 
aged, as  though  I  had  to  climb  a  great  height,  of  which  I 
would  never  reach  the  top,  no  matter  how  hard  I  tried. 
To-day  I  ought  to  be  happy ;  it  has  been  months  since  I've 
had  an  afternoon  like  this.  I've  played,  and  look  .  .  . 
look !    Seventeen  thousand  francs !" 

He  had  taken  from  his  inner  pocket  a  bundle  of  blue 
bank-notes,  throwing  it  on  the  table  with  a  certain  fury. 

"I  succeeded  in  winning  as  high  as  twenty-six  thou- 
sand. If  there  is  anything  in  the  saying,  'Lucky  at  cards, 
unlucky  in  love,'  I  was  as  lucky  as  a  despairing  lover 
or  a  deceived  husband.    And  yet,  I'm  not  happy." 

The  Prince  smiled  again,  as  though  a  self-evident  truth 
had  just  been  completely  demonstrated.  Woman !  That 
Qorinda,  that  devil  of  a  "Generala,"  was  a  real  "woman." 
With  a  few  short  minutes  of  conversation  only,  she  had 
turned  Castro  topsy-turvy,  and  perhaps  would  end  by 
breaking  up  the  peaceful  life — without  exciting  pleas- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  145 

ures  but  without  desperate  sorrows  as  well — that  the 
guests  at  Villa  Sirena  were  leading. 

"And  you,  Atilio,"  he  said  in  a  reproachful  voice,  "are 
moved  by  that  smooth-voiced  virago.  You  believe  in  love 
like  a  school-boy." 

Castro  replied  in  a  cold,  aggressive  tone.  The  Prince 
might  say  whatever  he  liked  about  him ;  but  to  call  her 
a  virago!  .  .  .  What  right  had  he?  Nevertheless  he 
hid  the  real  cause  of  his  annoyance,  pretending  to  be  hurt 
by  the  allusion  to  his  credulity. 

"I  don't  believe  in  anything;  I'm  more  skeptical  than 
you  perhaps.  I  know  that  everything  about  us  is  false, 
and  conventional — all  a  matter  of  lies  that  we  accept  be- 
cause they  are  necessary  to  us  for  the  moment.  You  love 
music  and  painting  as  though  they  were  something  divine 
and  eternal.  Very  well;  if  the  structure  of  our  ears 
were  to  be  modified  a  little,  the  symphonies  of  Beethoven 
would  be  a  regular  din ;  if  the  functioning  of  our  retinas 
were  to  change,  we  would  have  to  burn  all  the  famous 
pictures,  because  they  would  seem  like  so  many  canvases 
dirtied  by  a  child's  play;  if  our  brains  were  to  be  modi- 
fied, all  the  poets  and  thinkers  would  become  childish 
idiots  for  us.  No,  I  don't  believe  in  anything,"  he  in- 
sisted angrily.  "In  order  to  live  and  understand  one  an- 
other, we  have  to  agree  upon  a  high  and  a  low,  a  left  and 
a  right ;  but  even  that  is  a  lie,  since  we  live  in  the  infinite 
which  has  no  limits.  Everything  we  consider  fundamen- 
tal is  simply  a  matter  of  lines  that  have  been  laid  down 
on  the  canvas  of  life  to  mark  off  our  various  conceptions." 

The  Prince  shrugged  his  shoulders,  giving  him  a  look 
of  surprise.    Why  all  this,  apropos  of  a  woman? 

"Everything  is  a  lie,"  Castro  went  on ;  "but  that  is  no 
reason  why  I  should  live  like  a  stone  or  a  tree.  I  need 
sweet  falsehoods  to  sing  my  mind  to  sleep  until  the  hour 
of  my  death.    Illusions  are  a  lie,  but  I  want  them  near 


146  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

me;  hope  is  another  lie,  but  I  want  it  to  walk  before  me. 
I  don't  believe  in  love,  since  I  don't  believe  in  anything. 
Everything  you  say  against  it  I  have  known  for  years; 
but  should  I  give  it  a  kick  if  it  comes  my  way,  and  wants 
to  go  with  me?  Do  you  know  any  dream  that  fills  the 
emptiness  of  our  lives  better — even  though  it  lasts  only 
a  short  time?" 

Michael  greeted  his  friend's  enthusiasm  with  a  sar- 
donic gesture. 

"Do  you  know  why  I  look  younger  than  I  am  ?"  Atilio 
continued,  more  and  more  excitedly.  "Do  you  know  I 
shall  be  young  when  others  of  my  own  age  have  become 
old  men?  I  pretend  to  be  ironical.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
I'm  a  skeptic.  But  I  have  a  secret,  the  secret  of  eternal 
youth,  which  I  keep  to  myself.  Let  me  tell  you  what  it  is. 
I  have  discovered  that  the  greatest  wisdom  in  life,  the 
most  important  thing,  is  to  'while  away  the  time' ;  and 
I  fill  the  emptiness  that  every  man  carries  inside  him  with 
an  orchestra ;  the  orchestra  of  my  illusions.  The  great 
thing  is  that  it  play  all  the  time,  that  the  music  rack  never 
be  empty ;  once  one  piece  is  played,  another  must  take  its 
place.  At  times  it  is  a  symphony  of  love.  Mine  have 
been  beautiful  but  brief.  For  that  reason  I  have  replaced 
them  with  another  which  is  endless — that  of  ambition  and 
the  desire  for  gain,  whose  orbits  are  infinite  like  those  of 
the  stars  in  the  heavens,  and  like  the  possible  combina- 
tions of  cards.  I  gamble.  In  the  whirl  of  the  roulette 
wheel  I  see  a  castle  that  may  be  mine,  a  more  sumptuous 
castle  than  any  in  existence;  a  finer  yacht  than  the  one 
you  used  to  have;  endless  fetes.  Through  a  pack  of 
cards  I  can  contemplate  things  more  magnificent  than 
were  dreamed  of  by  the  Persian  story-tellers.  Its  suites 
are  so  many  piles  of  precious  gems.  Most  of  the  time  I 
lose,  and  the  orchestra  plays  an  accompaniment  on  muted 
strings,  with  a  funeral  march  of  wondrous  wild  sadness 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  147 

and  beauty;  but  after  a  few  measures,  the  march  becomes 
a  hymn  of  triumph,  the  dawning  of  a  new  day,  the  resur- 
rection of  hope." 

And  now  there  was  a  look  of  pity  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Prince.     "He  is  mad,"  it  seemed  to  say. 

"This  afternoon,"  Castro  continued,  "my  orchestra 
made  me  acquainted  with  a  new  symphony,  something  I 
had  never  heard  before.  While  I  was  winning  money  I 
did  not  think  a  single  time  about  myself,  nor  about  pal- 
aces, nor  yachts,  nor  parties.  I  was  thinking  only  of  the 
'Generala,'  and  thinking  of  her  with  real  hate,  wanting 
to  get  revenge.  I  wanted  to  win  a  hundred  thousand 
francs — who  knows,  I  may  win  it  to-morrow — and  spend 
the  whole  hundred  thousand  on  a  pearl  necklace,  on  leav- 
ing the  Casino,  and  send  it  to  her  anonymously  with 
something  like  this:  'As  a  tribute  of  dislike  from  a 
worthless,  miserable  man.' " 

A  burst  of  laughter  from  the  Prince  woke  the  Colonel 
with  a  start.  As  a  good  early  riser,  the  latter  had  gone 
to  sleep  in  his  chair.  Observing  that  His  Excellency  was 
not  paying  any  attention  to  him,  he  slipped  out  of  the 
Hall,  as  though  he  had  something  of  more  importance 
to  attend  to  than  the  conversation  of  the  two  friends  who 
seemed  to  ignore  his  presence. 

"But  what  do  you  find  in  love  ?"  Michael  asked.  "For 
I  think  you  know  what  love  really  is.  All  the  illusions 
of  adolescence,  and  all  the  ideaHsm  of  poetry,  are  merely 
winding  paths  which  lead  to  the  same,  the  only  goal ;  the 
physical  act.  And  aren't  you  tired  of  that?  Aren't  you 
lever  daunted  by  the  monotony  of  it?" 

There  was  a  certain  gloomy  intonation  in  the  Prince's 
voice,  as  though  he  were  lamenting  over  the  ruin  of  all 
his  own  life.  He  had  met  hundreds  of  women  of  the 
sort  that  cause  a  sudden  burst  of  mute  desire  as  they 
pass.     Feminine  resistance  was  something  unknown  to 


148  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

him.  More  than  that:  women  had  sought  him,  coming 
half-way  of  their  own  free  will,  pursuing  him  with  no 
regard  for  the  conventions  and  modesty,  obliging  him,  as 
a  matter  of  masculine  pride,  to  overtax  his  powers  with 
a  prodigality  that  made  pleasure  almost  painful.  And 
they  were  all  alike !  He  understood  the  mirage  of  illu- 
sion in  the  things  that  one  admires  from  afar,  and  has  no 
hope  of  obtaining.  It  is  our  curiosity  for  what  is  hidden, 
the  desire  which  is  aroused  by  an  obstacle,  the  inner  fan- 
cies inspired  by  clothes,  ornaments,  everything  which  cov- 
ers the  feminine  body,  giving  to  its  sameness  the  charm 
of  a  mystery  which  is  ever  renewed.  As  for  him,  alas, 
it  was  as  though  they  all  went  nude.  Nothing  could  stim- 
ulate his  interest;  it  was  all  too  familiar. 

"Besides,"  and  here  his  voice  grew  quieter,  "I  wouldn't 
confess  it  to  any  one  else ;  but  love  and  women  make  me 
think  of  the  miserableness  of  human  life,  the  inevitable 
end,  death.  Since  I've  been  freed  from  their  false  seduc- 
tions, I  feel  gayer,  more  sure  of  myself;  I  enjoy  more 
frankly  the  passing  moment.  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you 
about  the  shame  of  those  bodies  which  we  claim  to  be 
divine.  Women  are  less  wholesome  than  men.  It  was 
Nature's  will.  But  that  isn't  what  makes  me  flee  from 
them." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  but  then  added  shortly 
after : 

"Whenever  I  am  near  a  woman  I  can't  help  but  see  the 
image  of  death.  When  I  caress  her  silky  hair,  I  sud- 
denly seem  to  feel  a  smooth,  hard  yellow  skull,  like  those 
one  sees  protruding  from  the  ground  in  abandoned  ceme- 
teries. A  kiss  on  her  mouth,  or  a  nibble  at  her  chin, 
rouses  in  me  a  vision  of  the  bony  jaw  with  its  teeth,  not 
so  different  from  those  of  the  anthropoids  in  the  mu- 
seums. Those  eyes  will  fade ;  that  nose  with  its  graceful 
curves  and  rosy  quivering  nostrils  will  dissolve  likewise ; 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  149 

the  only  solid  and  permanent  parts  are  the  black  sockets, 
and  the  grotesque  grin  of  the  skull,  with  its  flattened 
nose.  Those  swelling  breasts  are  nothing  more  than  false 
padding  to  hide  the  ghastly  cage  of  the  ribs ;  those  legs, 
which  seem  to  us  such  wonderful  columns,  are  stringy 
flesh  and  water  that  will  waste  away,  leaving  bare  two 
long  calcareous  pipe-stems.  We  imagine  we  are  adoring 
supreme  beauty,  and  we  are  embracing  a  skeleton.  The 
image  of  death  fills  us  with  horror,  and  every  woman  car- 
ries one  within  her,  and  compels  us  to  worship  it." 

Now  it  was  Castro's  turn  to  gaze  in  astonishment.  His 
eyes,  fixed  on  the  Prince,  seemed  to  say:  "He  is  mad." 

"The  trouble  with  you,  Michael,  is  that  you've  over- 
enjoyed,"  he  said  after  a  long  pause.  "You  make  me 
think  of  the  people  who,  when  they  sit  down  to  the 
table,  hide  their  lack  of  appetite  with  nausea.  The  most 
succulent  meat  for  them  suggests  the  horrors  of  the 
slaughter  house.  Bread  reminds  them  of  the  hands  that 
kneaded  it,  and  wine  calls  up  a  picture  of  feet  reeking 
with  juice  in  the  vintage-troughs.  But  just  let  their 
senses  awaken,  and  their  physical  needs  reassert  them- 
selves, and  they  see  everything  in  a  diflFerent  light,  as 
though  the  sun  had  just  risen,  and  they  find  an  indescrib- 
able charm  in  the  very  things  that  disgusted  them.  What 
difference  is  it  to  me  if  a  woman  has  a  skeleton  inside? 
I  have  one  too,  and  that  doesn't  prevent  me  from  taking 
a  great  deal  of  joy  in  the  pleasures  of  life,  and  consider- 
ing love  as  the  most  interesting  of  all  those  pleasures." 

Castro  laughed  with  aflPectionate  compassion  as  he 
looked  at  his  friend. 

"Let  me  say  it  again,  you  are  satiated;  you  have  the 
lack  of  appetite  and  the  gloomy  vision  of  a  person  suffer- 
ing from  a  painful  indigestion.  You  are  still  too  young 
for  this  debility  to  last.  You  will  recover.  Your  ap- 
petite will  come  back.    I  hope  you  won't  find  the  table 


150  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

set  exactly  as  in  the  past,  that  you  will  be  swept  off  your 
feet  by  some  obstacle,  in  other  words,  that  unrequital  will 
make  you  suffer;  and  then  .  .  .  well,  just  wait  till 
thenr 


CHAPTER  V 

Don  Marcos  had  never  seen  the  Prince  so  vexed  as  he 
was  that  morning,  when  he  announced  that  the  Duchess 
de  DeHlle  was  waiting  for  him  down-stairs  in  the  hall. 

"You  should  have  told  her  I'd  gone  out ;  any  sort  of  a 
pretext — a  lunch  at  Nice.  .  .  .  There  must  be  some 
understanding  between  you.  You  certainly  look  out  for 
your  Infanta !" 

The  Colonel,  flushed  with  emotion,  made  an  effort  to 
reply  to  these  accusations.  If  the  Duchess  had  now  sud- 
denly presented  herself,  it  was  perhaps  because  he  had 
refused  to  take  any  of  her  messages  for  the  Prince. 

As  the  latter  went  down  to  the  hall,  he  ran  straight 
into  Alicia,  who  was  standing  close  to  a  window,  and 
looking  at  the  gardens  and  the  sea.  Her  back  was  to- 
wards him,  just  as  he  had  seen  her  coming  out  of  the 
concert.  When  she  turned  her  head,  Michael  thought  to 
himself  that  he  would  surely  never  have  recognized  her 
had  he  met  her  anywhere  else.  She  was  a  beautiful  wom- 
an, but  scarcely  like  the  person  he  had  seen  that  last  time 
in  the  "study"  on  the  Avenue  du  Bois,  with  its  weird 
oriental  nick-nacks  and  unwholesome  perfumes.  Several 
years  of  her  life  had  passed  away  since  then,  and  yet  she 
seemed  fresher,  and  younger.  Her  eyes  had  lost  the 
veiled  disturbing  fire,  that  made  them  look  larger,  and 
gave  them  a  fixed,  unnatural  stare.  The  dull,  sickly  white- 
ness of  her  skin  had  taken  on  color  from  the  sun  and  the 
open  air.  Her  airy,  undulating  litheness  had  become  less 
willowy,  giving  her  person  the  calm  tranquillity  of  bodies 
that  are  beginning  to  crystallize  in  their  definitive  form. 

151 


152  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  Prince,  interrupted  by  Alicia's  smiling  glance,  was 
unable  to  continue  his  scrutiny.  It  seemed  from  her  quiet 
easy  manner  as  though  she  had  been  there  in  that  very 
place  only  the  day  before.  Moreover,  Michael  suddenly 
began  to  wonder  how  he  should  start  the  conversation. 
Should  he  talk  English  or  French  ?  Should  he  speak  in- 
formally as  before  ?  .  .  .  She  put  an  end  to  his  hesita- 
tion, speaking  familiarly  in  Spanish,  just  as  when  they 
were  children. 

"How  hard  it  is  to  get  in  touch  with  you !  Practically 
impossible,"  Alicia  said  as  she  sat  down,  after  shaking 
hands  with  him.  "So  I  decided  to  pay  you  this  visit.  It 
isn't  exactly  proper  for  a  lady  to  call  on  a  person  with 
such  a  terrible  reputation  as  you  have ;  but  I'm  not  the 
first  one  who  has  come  here.  There  have  been  lots  of 
others !" 

She  laughed  teasingly  as  she  said  this.  Immediately 
she  became  serious,  and  said  timidly : 

"I  came  here  on  business — a  money  matter." 

Not  wanting  to  take  up  such  a  subject  at  once,  she 
talked  about  the  obstacles  which  had  obliged  her  to  come 
unannounced  to  Villa  Sirena.  The  Prince  could  have  ab- 
solute confidence  in  the  fidelity  with  which  his  "chamber- 
lain" carried  out  his  orders.  This  Colonel  was  a  nice 
fellow,  but  there  was  no  approaching  him,  any  more  than 
a  ferocious  dog,  when  some  one  tries  to  make  him  dis- 
obey his  master.  She  had  vainly  asked  him  to  announce 
her  visit ;  and  he  had  even  refused  to  accept  her  card  for 
his  Prince. 

"I  might  have  written  you;  but  I  was  afraid  you 
wouldn't  reply,  or  would  simply  tell  me  to  deal  with  your 
agent  in  Paris.  It  has  been  such  a  long  time  since  we've 
seen  each  other!  Our  friendship  has  been  so  intermit- 
tent !    So  that  is  why  I  finally  decided  last  night  to  come 


■  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  153 

and  surprise  you  in  your  den,  with  the  hope  that  you 
wouldn't  show  me  the  door." 

Michael  smiled,  making  a  gesture  of  indignant  denial. 

"I  came  about  my  debt  .  .  .  the  loans  your  mother 
made  me  some  time  ago.  I  didn't  know  how  much  they 
amounted  to.  Your  agent  now  says  they  are  over  four 
hundred  thousand  francs.  It  must  be  so,  if  he  maintains 
it.  At  times  when  I  was  in  straits  I  asked  for  something, 
and  the  Princess,  who  was  such  a  great  lady,  kept  giving 
and  giving,  without  cither  of  us  paying  any  attention  to 
the  amounts.  Now  I  see  how  tremendously  generous  she 
must  have  been." 

This  was  surprising  news  for  Lubimoif.  Then  he 
gradually  recalled  that  when  his  mother  died  she  had 
left  a  long  memorandum  of  all  the  loans  she  had  made, 
and  that  Alicia's  name  figured  among  the  debtors.  But 
he  had  left  the  papers  in  the  hands  of  his  administrator, 
without  thinking  any  more  about  the  matter. 

He  immediately  understood  the  reason  for  Alicia's 
visit.  His  agent  had  wanted  to  raise  some  money,  and 
owing  to  the  lack  of  funds  from  Russia,  he  was  raising 
all  he  could  in  the  West:  credits  .  .  .  advances  made 
to  friends  or  dependents,  guaranty  deposits,  and  even  the 
loans  made  by  the  Princess,  which,  according  to  his  ex- 
press orders,  were  not  to  be  demanded  except  in  case  of 
strict  necessity. 

The  general  pressure  of  circumstances  had  reached 
Alicia.  For  the  last  four  months  the  Lubimoff  estate  had 
been  sending  her  letter  after  letter,  demanding  the  pay- 
ment of  her  enormous  debt.  Already  the  agent's  last  note 
had  become  threatening  because  of  her  silence.  It  noti- 
fied her  that  action  would  be  brought  against  her  in  court. 
The  estate  was  holding  many  of  her  letters  thanking  the 
Princess   for  the  latter's  generosity.     Besides,   all  the 


154  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

money  had  been  paid  by  checks  cashed  by  the  Duchess 
herself. 

"Your  administrator  is  certainly  an  insolent  fellow. 
The  other  day  I  saw  you  in  the  Casino, — I  saw  you  from 
behind  as  you  were  running  away  from  people.  You 
frightened  me:  I  imagined  then  that  you  had  changed, 
that  you  were  very  different  from  the  man  I  knew,  and 
that  we  would  never  come  to  an  understanding.  Later 
I  thought  you  mustn't  be  quite  so  terrible  as  you  seem 
.    .    .  and  I  came." 

Michael,  remaining  silent,  seemed  to  be  saying  some- 
thing with  his  eyes,  which  were  fixed  on  Alicia.  Well, 
why  had  she  come  ?  What  was  it  she  wished  to  propose 
to  him? 

She  smiled  with  an  expression  of  cynical  amusement. 

"I  came  to  tell  you  that  I  can't  pay  now — and  perhaps 
never ;  to  beg  you  to  wait,  I  don't  know  how  long,  and  to 
ask  you  to  see  that  that  disagreeable  fellow  who  is  man- 
aging your  estate  doesn't  annoy  me  with  his  insolence." 

And  as  the  Prince  made  no  move,  she  continued, 

"I'm  ruined." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Michael.  "We're  all  ruined.  The 
munition  makers  are  the  only  people  with  any  money 
now." 

"Oh !  You  ruined !"  Alicia  protested.  "With  you  it  is 
simply  a  question  of  being  hard  pressed  for  the  moment. 
Things  in  Russia  will  be  straightened  out  some  time  or 
other.  Besides,  you  are  Prince  LubimofT,  the  famous 
millionaire.  If  I  had  your  name,  who  would  refuse  me 
a  loan?" 

Suddenly  she  lost  the  audacious  smile  which  she  had 
worked  up  for  the  interview.  Her  eyes  grew  darker ;  the 
comers  of  her  mouth  drooped. 

"I  am  really  ruined.    Look." 

She  pointed  to  the  triangle  of  bare  flesh  visible  at  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  155 

throat  of  her  low  cut  dress.  A  pearl  necklace  rested  on 
her  white  bosom.  Michael,  as  she  insisted,  finally  looked 
at  the  pearls.  False,  scandalously  false ;  all  the  luster 
gone,  opaque  and  yellow  as  drops  of  wax.  He  knew 
something  about  pearls ;  he  had  given  away  so  many  neck- 
laces !  Then  Alicia  showed  him  her  hands.  Two  artistic- 
ally made  finger  rings,  but  without  any  jewels,  and  of 
slight  intrinsic  value,  were  all  that  adorned  her  fingers. 

"This  is  a  last  year's  dress,"  she  added  in  a  mournful 
voice,  as  though  confessing  something  most  shameful. 
"They  won't  trust  me  any  more  in  Paris.  I  owe  so  much ! 
Nothing  but  the  hat  is  new.  What  woman,  no  matter 
how  poor  she  might  feel,  wouldn't  buy  a  hat !  It  is  the 
most  conspicuous  thing  about  one, — something  that 
changes  all  the  time;  and  must  be  looked  after  at  all 
costs.  Luckily,  on  account  of  the  war,  they  are  not  using 
plumes.  .  .  .  I'm  poor,  Michael,  poorer  than  any  wom- 
an you  ever  knew." 

"And  your  mother?" 

The  Prince  asked  this  instinctively,  without  thinking. 
A  moment  later  he  suspected  that  he  had  read,  some  years 
before,  he  didn't  know  where,  perhaps  while  he  was  rov- 
ing the  seas,  the  news  of  the  death  of  Dona  Mercedes. 
He  was  not  sure;  but  her  daughter  removed  all  doubt. 

"Poor  senora!    Let's  not  talk  about  her." 

But  nevertheless  Alicia  did  talk,  but  only  to  lament  her 
mother's  devout  prodigality.  She  had  given  millions  for 
the  construction  of  an  enormous  hospital  in  Spain,  on  the 
advice  of  her  Aragonese  chaplain,  the  astronomer  of  the 
Champs-Elysees.  Marble  was  used  in  the  construction 
for  the  mere  masonry ;  the  garden  fence  was  forged  by  a 
celebrated  Parisian  artist  who  devoted  himself  to  molding 
bronze  statues  for  drawing-rooms.  But  when  the  vicar 
left,  tired  of  such  generosity,  the  monster  building  re- 
mained unfinished,  and  the  precioug  fence  lay  on  the 


156  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ground  in  pieces,  like  so  much  old  iron.  Later,  the  "Mon- 
signor"  directed  the  worthy  lady's  funds  into  other  chan- 
nels. It  was  necessary  to  spread  the  faith  by  means  of 
the  "good  book,"  and  a  new  publishing  house  arose  in 
Paris,  which  was  most  extraordinary  and  unheard  of. 
Packages  of  books  were  stored  on  mahogany  shelves,  and 
the  leaves  were  folded  on  lacquer  tables. 

"The  priests  got  everything  that  belonged  to  me,"  Alicia 
continued.  "At  times  they  egged  mamma  on  to  the  most 
absurd  outlays  of  money  just  for  the  sake  of  collecting 
commissions  from  the  contractors.  From  numerous  bel- 
fries in  both  hemispheres  chimes  rang  thanks  to  Dona 
Mercedes.  '  One  entire  bell  foundry  was  kept  going  just 
on  mamma's  gifts.  Besides,  she  was  often  carried  away 
by  a  sort  of  loving  weakness  for  a'.l  the  saints  who  were 
not  especially  famous. 

"In  her  last  years  she  devoted  herself  to  'launching' 
saints.  Every  one  in  the  calendar  who  was  little  known, 
or  of  some  unusual  name,  aroused  in  her  the  desire  to 
repair  a  great  injustice.  She  had  their  lives  written, 
churches  dedicated  to  them;  and  corresponded  with  the 
high  dignitaries  of  Rome  to  push  many  a  dead  man,  who 
had  waited  centuries  in  vain  for  the  hour  when  he  should 
become  a  Saint." 

Lubimoff  finally  began  to  laugh  at  the  resentful  tone  in 
which  Alicia  spoke  of  her  mother's  mystic  pleasures. 
Dona  Mercedes  was  a  great  one !  And  finally  she  began 
to  laugh  likewise. 

"In  that  way  all  our  income,  which  was  enormous,  was 
spent.  She  should  have  left  me  a  real  fortune,  unencum- 
bered, in  the  bank.  A  lady  that  spent  so  little  on  her- 
self !  And  nevertheless,  I  had  to  pay  out  huge  sums  for 
all  the  orders  she  had  contracted  before  her  death.  You 
can  be  sure  the  Monsignor  and  the  rest  of  them  are  much 
richer  than  I." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  157 

"How  about  your  mines  ?    And  your  lands  in  Mexico?'* 

The  Duchess  repeated  the  same  gesture  of  despair.  It 
was  as  though  they  did  not  exist!  She  was  poor,  abso- 
lutely poor. 

"You  say  you  are  ruined,  and  you  haven't  suffered 
from  the  money  shortage  for  more  than  the  last  two 
years,  perhaps  less.  I  haven't  seen  a  cent  of  my  fortune 
for  some  time  before  the  war.  Every  one  is  talking  about 
Russia,  and  Bolshevism,  because  it  is  something  that  con- 
cerns the  Old  World  directly.  But  how  about  Mexico, 
and  the  situation  there  which  goes  back  to  the  time  when 
Europe  was  at  peace?" 

Her  lands  had  been  lost  as  though  they  were  so  much 
personal  property,  that  could  be  transported  and  hidden. 
An  agrarian  revolution,  the  echoes  of  which  had  scarcely 
reached  the  Old  Continent,  had  swallowed  them  up,  sup- 
pressing all  traces  of  her  former  property  rights.  The 
half-breeds  had  divided  them  to  suit  themselves,  to  work 
them,  or  leave  them  more  unproductive  than  before.  To 
whom  could  she  appeal,  if  these  lands  were  in  provinces 
that  were  constantly  changing  hands,  and  the  Mexican 
government  had  no  authority  over  them  ? 

The  silver  mines,  which  for  three  generations  of  Baf- 
rios  had  been  the  basis  of  their  fortune,  were  in  a  still 
worse  situation. 

"One  of  the  so-called  'Generals,*  an  Indian,  has  forti- 
fied himself  in  the  territory  where  my  mines  are,  and 
from  there  he  defies  the  rulers  in  the  Capital.  They  tell 
me  that  every  month  he  takes  out  half  a  million  francs  in 
silver  bars.  He  cuts  them  up  in  disks,  puts  his  stamp  on 
them  and  makes  money  thus  to  pay  his  men.  You  can 
imagine  he  has  plenty  of  followers,  with  pure  silver 
money,  worth  more  than  that  of 'civilized  countries! 
They  will  never  be  able  to  put  him  out ;  all  he  has  to  do 
to  create  armies  for  himself  is  to  dig  down  into  what 


158  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

belongs  to  me.  This  bad  joke  has  gone  on  now  for  sev- 
eral years;  I,  who  live  in  Europe,  getting  poorer  and 
poorer  every  day,  am  paying  for  an  endless  war  on  the 
other  side  of  the  earth." 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  Prince  had  never  taken 
care  of  his  own  business  he  wanted  to  give  her  some  ad- 
vice. She  ought  to  go  over  there  and  ask  for  assistance ; 
she  was  bom  in  the  United  States. 

"I've  already  seen  to  that,"  she  replied.  "I  have  some 
one  in  New  York  who  looks  after  my  affairs.  But  would 
they  go  to  war  just  on  my  account?  Perhaps  I  shall  take 
the  trip  later.  Not  now :  I  haven't  the  strength.  There 
is  something  that  is  bothering  .me  terribly  just  now,  and 
it  would  be  even  worse  if  I  were  to  leave  France." 

Her  eyes  began  to  fill  with  tears.  Her  face  contracted 
with  an  expression  of  pain,  and  her  hand  moved  toward 
her  purse  for  a  handkerchief.  Michael  recalled  the 
young  man  that  Castro  had  been  noticing  at  Alicia's  side 
during  the  last  few  years.  Perhaps  he  was  the  cause  of 
her  emotion,  and  inability  to  make  the  trip. 

"Love!"  he  thought  to  himself.  "Love,  even  now 
when  she's  growing  old." 

He  tried  to  change  the  conversation  and  asked  about 
the  Duke  de  Delille.  He  knew  that  he  was  at  the  front ; 
and  even  thought  he  remembered  a  report  of  his  being 
wounded  in  one  of  the  early  battles.    Was  he  still  alive? 

In  speaking  of  her  husband,  Alicia  looked  grave,  to 
Michael's  great  surprise.  Formerly  she  used  to  treat  him 
with  a  certain  scorn.  He  had  accepted  his  wife's  free- 
dom, with  all  its  consequences,  in  exchange  for  an  enor- 
mous allowance.  They  lived  apart,  and  although  she 
found  her  independence  very  sweet,  she  could  not  help 
but  feel  a  sort  of  feminine  dislike  for  her  accommodating 
husband,  so  little  given  to  tragic  jealousy.    But  at  present 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  159 

her  ideas  seemed  to  have  changed,  and  she  spoke  rapidly 
as  though  afraid  of  noticing  Lubimoff  smile  as  she  used 
to  smile  herself,  in  mentioning  the  Duke. 

"Yes ;  he  joined  the  service.  You  know  of  course  that 
he  is  some  twenty  years  older  than  I.  He  was  exempted 
from  bearing  arms  on  account  of  his  age;  but  he  remem- 
bered that  he  had  been  an  officer  in  his  youth,  and  was 
one  of  the  first  to  go.  Who  would  have  thought  it  of  a 
man  who  didn't  seem  to  have  any  cares,  and  made  fun  of 
everything  that  didn't  affect  his  own  selfish  pleasures !" 

The  Germans  had  picked  him  up  in  a  dying  condition 
during  one  of  their  victorious  advances  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war.  He  was  covered  with  wounds.  After  two 
years  as  a  prisoner  they  had  exchanged  him  as  useless, 
and  he  was  living  interned  in  Switzerland,  with  one  arm 
gone. 

"Poor  man !  He  writes  me  every  month.  He  fishes  in 
Lake  Geneva,  and  thinks  of  me  more  than  he  ever 
thought  before.  His  epistles  are  almost  love  letters. 
What  a  transformation  misfortune  can  make  in  a  charac- 
ter. He  says  that  he  sees  life  from  a  different  angle ;  and 
hopes  that  after  the  cataclysm,  which  will  have  made  us 
better,  we  shall  be  able  to  come  together  again,  and  be 
happy.    Oh,  if  only  I  could  want  to!   .    .    ." 

Her  tone  was  ironical  as  she  spoke  of  this  illusionary 
happiness,  but  at  the  same  time  there  was  in  it  a  note  of 
respect  and  admiration.  The  Duke  whom  she  had  known 
as  a  great  dowry  hunter,  accommodating  and  unscrupu- 
lous, was  forgotten.  At  present  she  saw  in  him  only  the 
white-haired  warrior,  the  invalid,  who  according  to  the 
doctors,  would  not  live  long,  owir\g  to  the  operations  he 
had  undergone.  And  she  was  trying  to  keep  up  the  exile's 
hopes,  replying  to  his  long  letters,  with  brief,  affectionate 
notes. 


i6o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"So  it's  on  account  of  your  husband  that  you  don't  take 
the  trip?"  Michael  asked,  pretending  that  he  was  inquir- 
ing in  good  faith. 

Alicia  was  ruffled  by  such  a  supposition.  Poor  Delille  ! 
It  was  something  else  that  was  troubling  her.  Her  hus- 
band wasn't  the  only  one  who  had  gone  to  war.  There 
were  others,  who  were  younger,  and  had  better  reasons 
to  love  life,  but  who  had  suffered  the  same  fate.  How 
many  hidden  griefs  there  were  these  days ! 

The  Duchess's  eyes  moistened,  and  her  eyes  and  lips 
frankly  expressed  her  sorrow. 

"It's  the  little  lover;  there's  no  doubt  of  it,"  Michael 
said  to  himself.    "It's  the  young  chap  Castro  saw." 

As  though  she  read  his  thoughts  and  were  anxious  to 
switch  them,  Alicia  began  to  talk  once  more  about  the 
reason  for  her  visit,  and  about  her  situation. 

The  Prince  nodded  when  she  described  to  him  her 
amazement  at  finding  that  wealth  was  not  something  in- 
finite and  immutable,  and  that  it  was  slipping  from  her 
grasp  .  .  .  slipping  and  slipping,  without  her  being  able 
to  do  anything  to  avoid  the  gradual  ruin. 

"I  sold  inopportunely ;  I  took  the  money  they  cared  to 
give  me,  without  paying  any  attention  to  the  conditions. 
All  my  jewels  went ;  I  sold  some  in  Paris,  others  here  in 
this  very  place.  You  say  you  are  ruined.  No,  you  don't 
know  what  it  means ;  but  I  know  all  right !  I've  been 
shipwrecked  longer  than  you ;  my  boat  was  smaller.  I 
don't  want  to  bore  you  with  an  account  of  my  poverty.  I 
haven't  a  house  in  Paris  any  more.  I  shall  never  go  back 
there  again,  unless  my  affairs  are  straightened  out.  The 
only  house  I  have  is  a  villa  here,  which  I  bought  in  the 
good  old  days.  Don't  smile ;  there  are  two  mortgages  on 
it.  Almost  any  day  they  may  put  me  out  of  it.  It  was  a 
very  pleasant  sort  of  house  before,  when  I  had  money; 
but  now,  with  everything  so  scarce  on  account  of  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  i6i 

war!  There's  no  coal,  and  wood  is  dear;  it  gets  cold  at 
night,  and  it  takes  a  fortune  to  keep  the  old  furnace  go- 
ing. Besides,  I  haven't  any  servants  except  my  former 
lady's  maid,  the  gardener,  and  his  wife  who  does  the 
cooking.  For  that  reason  all  the  rooms  are  closed,  and 
Valeria  and  I  live  our  lives  in  two  rooms  on  the  first  floor. 
We  eat  there,  and  sleep  there.  Valeria  is  a  girl  from 
Paris,  a  seiiorita  whom  I  am  'protecting.*  Imagine  how 
poor  she  must  be  if  she  trusts  her  future  to  me !" 

"But  you  gamble,"  said  the  Prince. 

Alicia  seemed  shocked  at  these  words.  They  sounded 
like  an  accusation. 

"I  play,  but  what  can  you  expect  me  to  do  ?  I  have  to 
do  something  to  keep  body  and  soul  together,  to  earn  my 
living.  How  else  could  a  woman  like  myself  do  it?  I 
know  what  you're  going  to  say  to  me:  that  I've  lost  a 
great  deal.  True ;  I  sold  my  pearl  necklace  here,  the  real 
one,  and  a  great  many  other  jewels;  I  have  lost  large 
amounts,  more  than  I  care  to  think  of.  But  at  that  time  I 
didn't  know  all  I  know  to-day.  .  .  .  When  as  luck  will 
have  it,  I  haven't  much  money  to  play  1" 

Lubimoff  was  astonished  at  the  way  this  woman  spoke 
in  all  seriousness  of  her  present  adeptness. 

"Besides,"  she  added  in  a  tone  of  sadness,  "what  would 
become  of  me  if  I  didn't  play?  Surely  you  haven't  for- 
gotten how  I  was  when  we  saw  each  other  last.  You 
must  have  noticed  certain  tastes  of  mine." 

Michael  recalled  the  invitation  to  smoke  "the  pipe,"  and 
the  odor  that  filled  the  "study"  jn  the  palace  on  the  Ave- 
nue du  Bois. 

"I  put  a  stop  to  all  that :  gambling  and  something  else 
made  me  give  it  up.  Now  I  think  of  it  with  disgust. 
That's  why  I  live  in  Monte  Carlo.  I  have  a  feeling  deep 
down  in  my  heart  that  fortune  will  come  back  in  search 
of  me  here,  and  nowhere  else.    Don't  you  play?" 


i62  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Michael  was  annoyed  at  this  question.  Hadn't  he  told 
her  that  he  was  ruined  ?  Was  he  going  to  follow  her  ex- 
ample, and  make  his  situation  still  worse  by  losing  the 
remnants  of  his  fortune? 

"Ruined!"  exclaimed  Alicia.  "Your  hard  times  can't 
last  long.  This  Russian  business  will  finally  be  settled. 
The  great  powers  have  too  large  interests  at  stake  there, 
not  to  take  a  hand  in  straightening  everything  out.  It's 
this  affair  of  mine  that  won't  be  arranged  for  years.  The 
only  hope  I  have  is  to  enjoy  a  run  of  luck  in  fhe  Casino 
and  win  some  two  or  three  hundred  thousand  francs,  and, 
with  that  amount,  wait  for  things  to  change." 

The  Prince  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  knew  gam- 
blers. This  woman,  dominated  by  her  wild  dream,  would 
forget  the  object  of  her  visit,  and  go  raving  on  about  the 
possible  whims  of  fortune,  like  Spadoni,  or  like  Castro 
himself. 

"And  what  do  you  want  of  me  ?" 

Alicia  seemed  to  wake  up,  and  once  more  her  smile 
became  bold,  and  engaging,  as  it  had  been  at  the  beginning 
of  the  interview;  the  smile  of  a  petitioner  who  comes 
with  the  firm  determination  to  get  what  he  wants.  She 
had  already  told  him  at  the  very  beginning  what  her  ob- 
ject was ;  that  the  Prince's  agent  shouldn't  bother  her  any 
more  in  regard  to  that  forgotten  debt. 

"I  shall  pay  it  some  day,  if  it  is  possible  for  me.  .  .  . 
But  you  had  better  count  on  my  never  paying  it  at  all. 
Give  it  up  as  lost,  and  tell  that  horrid  gentleman  not  to 
write  me  any  more." 

Michael,  fascinated  by  the  simple  way  in  which  this 
woman  announced  her  extraordinary  desire,  imitated  the 
tone  of  her  voice. 

"Very  well;  I  shall  tell  this  horrid  gentleman  not  to 
bother  you ;  to  forget  you." 

And  he  laughed  like  a  child,  without  paying  any  atten- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  163 

tion  to  the  fact  that  his  own  interests  were  at  stake.  The 
only  thing  he  thought  of  was  the  expression  on  the  face 
of  his  solemn  agent  when  he  received  such  an  order. 

'T  always  thought  you  were  kind  and  generous,"  she 
said.  "Thanks,  Michael !  At  times  I  have  had  a  discus- 
sion with  the  'General'  about  you,  to  convince  her  that 
you  are  a  big  hearted  man." 

"Oh,  so  Dona  Clorinda  is  an  enemy  of  mine?  Why 
I've  never  seen  her !" 

"She's  an  extraordinary  woman.  In  her  eyes,  every 
man  who  has  a  good  time,  and  doesn't  do  wonderful 
things,  is  displeasing  to  her.  Only  yesterday  we  quar- 
reled for  good.  Let's  not  talk  about  her.  I  have  some- 
thing more  to  ask  of  you." 

More  ?  The  Prince  looked  at  her  in  astonishment,  but 
Alicia  hastened  to  add  that  what  she  wanted  was  some 
advice. 

War  had  upset  their  modes  of  life  with  amazing  rapid- 
ity. Social  values  were  reversed:  the  fortunes  that 
seemed  most  solid  were  crumbling. 

"Things  will  change,  surely?  It's  impossible  for  this 
to  last." 

"Yes  it  is  impossible,"  he  said  gravely. 

Both  of  them  seemed  to  be  living  in  another  world, 
surrounded  by  the  senseless  visions  of  a  nightmare.  To 
think  that  they  would  have  to  worry  of  money,  after  it 
had  been,  up  to  that  time,  a  natural  part  of  their  exis- 
tence, much  as  sunlight,  air,  or  water  is  for  every  one! 
To  think  that  they  should  find  themselves  obliged  to  pur- 
sue it  in  its  flight  through  unknown  ways !  No,  it  wasn't 
logical;  surely  a  passing  whim  of  destiny.  Their  lives 
would  again  be  the  same  as  before,  with  the  regularity  of 
the  laws  of  nature,  which  seem  to  swerve  at  times,  but 
finally  return  to  their  orderly  predestined  course. 

Being  harder  pressed,  and  having  suffered  economic 


i64  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

hardships  for  a  longer  time,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to 
adopt  the  serenity  with  which  Lubimoff  accepted  his  mo- 
mentary ruin. 

"Things  will  change,  that's  certain;  but  in  the  mean- 
time, how  can  I  live?  You  have  just  freed  me  from  a 
moral  burden  by  forgetting  about  this  debt.  I  thank  you. 
But  I  must  work,  I  want  to  earn  some  money !  What  is 
your  advice?" 

He  was  astounded.  What  work  could  AHcia  do  ?  Her 
question  was  laughable.  But  there  she  was,  gravely  fac- 
ing him,  convinced  of  her  determination  to  work,  and 
expecting  illuminating  counsel,  as  though  her  fate  de- 
pended on  him. 

Fortunately  Alicia  herself,  unable  to  bear  the  silence, 
began  to  explain  her  own  ideas  on  the  subject.  The  top- 
sy-turvy state  of  things  at  the  present  time  justified  the 
wildest  plans.  A  great  lady  might  adopt  means  of  sup- 
port which  some  years  previously  would  have  caused  a 
scandal.  She  knew  a  number  of  Russian  ladies  in  Nice 
who  used  to  give  wonderful  parties  in  their  drawing 
rooms  before  the  war,  and  who  at  present,  having  been 
reduced  to  poverty,  were  devising  schemes  to  earn  their 
living  in  their  own  way.  One  was  going  to  open  a  millin- 
ery shop,  and  count  on  her  former  friendships  to  form  a 
circle  of  customers.  Another  had  changed  her  villa  on 
the  Promenade  des  Anglais  into  a  boarding  house.  She 
would  admit  only  people  of  distinction.  Allied  officers, 
from  Colonels  up.  She  intended  to  treat  her  boarders 
like  visitors,  with  all  the  courtesy  of  a  great  lady  receiv- 
ing her  guests;  save  that  from  now  on  every  day  in  the 
week  would  be  her  reception  day. 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  turning  my  villa  into  a 
boarding  house  ?  Could  you  help  me  with  a  little  money 
to  renew  the  furniture,  and  buy  whatever  is  lacking? 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  165 

Nothing  but  aristocratic  guests ;  generals,  and  retired  am- 
bassadors who  come  here  in  quest  of  sunlight." 

The  Prince  replied  with  a  burst  of  laughter. 

"Why,  you're  crazy.  They  would  all  make  love  to  you. 
In  a  few  weeks  your  establishment  would  be  a  regular  in- 
ferno." 

Alicia,  considering  his  observation  quite  accurate,  did 
not  insist  any  further.  The  Russian  lady  in  Nice  was  old 
and  terrible  looking  compared  with  her.  Besides,  she 
thought  it  perfectly  natural  and  logical  that  her  guests 
should  become  enamored  of  her. 

The  "General"  had  suggested  another  plan  to  her.  She 
might  open  a  tea-room  in  Monte  Carlo,  a  very  elegant 
one.  The  attraction  of  seeing  her  at  the  counter  would 
draw  people.  For  this  she  would  not  need  a  financial 
backer. 

Once  more  LubimofT  burst  out  laughing. 

"The  Duchess  de  Delille's  tea-room!  That  would  be 
delightful;  but  once  people's  curiosity  had  been  satisfied 
the  only  customers  you  would  have  would  be  those  who 
were  interested  in  your  charms.  No;  that's  not  busi- 
ness." 

She  gave  a  look  of  somewhat  comic  dismay ;  what  was 
she  to  do  ?  A  lady  who  is  anxious  for  work  can  find  no 
occupation  in  a  world  controlled  and  monopolized  by 
men.  She  had  nothing  to  fall  back  on  except  gambling. 
It  was  an  exciting  pleasure  which  made  her  forget  her 
worries,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  her  hope.  Each  day 
with  gambling  she  opened  a  window  to  fortune,  in  case  it 
should  deign  to  remember  her.  Who  knows  but  what 
some  time  it  might  fold  its  golden  wings  and  alight  on  a 
Casino  table,  and  allow  Alicia's  slender  hands  to  caress 
it,  like  a  tame  eagle ! 

"In  the  first  few  months  of  the  war/'  she  continued,  "I 


i66  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

didn't  feel  the  need  of  anything  to  distract  my  mind ;  the 
reality  of  what  was  happening  was  enough.  What  an- 
guish I  went  through  !  But  one  gets  used  to  everything ; 
the  deepest  emotions  get  monotonous  if  they  are  too  long 
drawn  out.  One  can't  live  forever  with  one's  nerves  at 
a  high  tension.  And  this  war  is  so  long,  and  so  tiresome ! 
I  might  have  had  recourse  to  philanthropic  work  to  take 
my  mind  off  my  troubles;  go  into  a  hospital,  and  take 
care  of  the  wounded.  But  I've  never  been  clever  at  such 
things,  and  I  don't  want  to  make  a  nuisance  of  myself 
and  be  a  hindrance,  out  of  pure  vanity,  like  a  great  many 
other  women.  Besides,  we  are  in  the  habit  of  giving  ord- 
ers, and  always  coming  first,  and  no  matter  how  deeply 
we  may  feel  the  spirit  of  sacrifice,  we  finally  leave,  un- 
able to  endure  finding  ourselves  ordered  about  by  more 
skillful  and  useful  women,  who  have  previously  been  our 
inferiors.  Take  Clorinda  for  instance;  she  was  a  nurse 
the  first  two  years ;  she  was  one  of  the  prettiest  and  most 
interesting  with  her  white  dress  and  her  little  blue  cape. 
She  is  attracted  by  everything  great ;  heroism,  sacrifices, 
etc.,  but  she  finally  quarreled  with  her  superiors  and  gave 
up  her  fine  role." 

In  gesture  and  facial  expression  Alicia  seemed  to  be 
pitying  her  own  uselessness. 

"What  could  I  do  ?  I  was  reduced  to  worse  and  worse 
straits.  In  Paris  my  creditors  were  right  at  my  heels, 
constantly  bothering  me;  that's  why  I  came  to  Monte 
Carlo,  and  gambled  to  forget,  and  to  make  a  living.  There 
is  love,  an  old  Academician,  a  friend  of  mine,  said  to  me, 
with  a  selfish  motive  to  be  the  first  to  make  advantage  of 
his  advice.  Just  imagine:  real  passionate  love,  whole- 
hearted love,  as  the  only  solution  for  the  sorrows  of  life, 
and  at  such  a  time!  Oh,  if  only  I  could!  But  1  feel  I'm 
old,  two  thousand  years  old.    You  are  younger,  but  you 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  167 

can  count  your  life  in  centuries  too.  Love,  for  such  as 
you  and  me!" 

At  first  Lubimoff  smiled  at  the  tone  of  irony  and  disen- 
chantment in  which  she  spoke.  Yes,  they  were  very  old. 
The  great  remedies,  useful  for  the  majority  of  people, 
had  no  effect  on  them.  They,  as  it  were,  had  become  in- 
sensible from  satiety  and  weariness.  Suddenly  the  Prince 
was  moved  by  an  indiscreet  desire.  He  decided  to  take 
advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  ask  her  a  question  that 
had  often  occurred  to  him. 

"Indeed,"  he  said  with  masculine  frankness,  as  though 
talking  with  a  comrade,  "you  still  believe  in  love?  They 
told  me  about  a  boy,  almost  a  child,  whom  you  used  to 
take  everywhere  before  the  war.  Really,  we  are  begin- 
ning to  get  old,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "and  feel  we  need 
the  contact  of  youth.  Was  he  your  lover?  Is  he  the 
reason  for  your  worries  ?" 

At  these  questions,  the  Duchess  paled,  and  seemed  to 
hesitate.  Then  she  made  an  effort  to  speak.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  she  was  eager  to  be  sincere.  But  her  pallor 
was  followed  by  a  wave  of  crimson.  Twice  she  tried  to 
say  something,  and  finally,  mastering  her  desire  to  talk, 
she  forced  a  mischievous  smile. 

"Let's  not  talk  about  that.  We  each  have  a  right  to 
our  secrets,"  she  said. 

And  to  keep  the  Prince  from  relapsing  into  his  curi- 
osity, she  went  on  talking  about  gambling.  But  he  was 
absorbed  in  his  thoughts,  and  was  not  listening  to  her. 
He  had  hit  the  nail  on  the  head ;  that  young  stripling  was 
her  lover,  and  she  was  suflfering  on  his  account.  Perhaps 
he  was  wounded,  or  a  prisoner.  That  was  the  great  ob- 
stacle which  stood  in  the  way  of  her  trip;  which  was 
keeping  her  pinned  down  in  Europe,  in  the  superstitious 
belief  that  we  can  ward  off  dangers  better  if  we  remain 


i68  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

close  at  hand.  And  she  seemed  very  much  in  love !  Here 
the  Prince  gave  vent  to  a  series  of  mental  exclamations. 

"Forty  years  old,  with  a  past  that  would  fill  a  book! 
To  feel  such  a  powerful,  such  a  youthful  passion !  Still 
to  believe  in  love!" 

Michael  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  that  was  al- 
most one  of  hatred.  Her  passion  for  the  boy  annoyed 
him,  without  his  being  able  to  tell  just  why ;  perhaps  be- 
cause of  the  indignation  which  is  always  aroused  by  peo- 
ple who  cling  to  some  harmful  lie,  accepting  it  as  truth 
and  consolation.  Whatever  the  cause,  her  conduct  an- 
noyed him. 

This  sudden  feeling  of  hostility  towards  Alicia  finally 
caused  him  to  pay  attention  once  more  to  what  she  was 
saying. 

"If  only  I  had  as  much  money  as  I  had  before,  when 
your  mother  was  still  alive,  and  we  used  to  live  in  Monte 
Carlo !  But  at  that  time  I  didn't  know  as  much  as  I  know 
to-day  about  gambling.  I  used  to  play  just  for  excite- 
ment, just  to  enjoy  the  sensation  of  losing,  which,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  didn't  affect  me  very  deeply.  I  used  only 
chips  for  a  thousand  francs  in  betting.  I  thought  it  was 
beneath  me  so  much  as  to  touch  any  others ;  and  besides, 
I  never  risked  them  one  at  a  time.  I  always  staked  them 
in  a  row." 

"How  much  have  you  lost?" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  pursed  her  lips  dis- 
dainfully. 

"Who  could  possibly  know  ?  I've  been  coming  here  for 
twelve  years  or  more.  Even  the  people  in  the  Casino 
wouldn't  be  able  to  calculate  what  I've  given  them.  In 
those  days,  I  never  used  to  keep  any  track  of  it  myself. 
When  I  needed  money  I  telegraphed  to  Paris.  Besides, 
I  had  your  mother ;  and  I  had  my  own,  who  usually  gave 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  169 

in  to  my  requests,  in  the  end.  I  wouldn't  like  to  know 
how  much  I've  lost :  it  would  make  me  furious.  It  must 
be  millions." 

The  smile  of  commiseration  with  which  Michael  lis- 
tened to  her,  seemed  to  make  her  bolder. 

"But  at  that  time  I  didn't  know  how  to  play !  Now  I 
must  win,  and  I  play  in  a  different  way.  What  I  need  is 
capital.    If  I  only  had  a  working  capital !" 

This  last  expression  changed  his  smile  into  frank 
laughter.  "A  working  capital !"  The  Duchess  would  go 
on  talking  seriously  about  her  "work."  She  lamented  the 
slenderness  of  her  means.  Some  thirty  thousand  francs 
was  all  the  capital  she  had  at  her  disposal.  At  times  it 
dwindled  in  alarming  fashion :  the  thirty  thousand  often 
shrunk  to  a  single  digit.  Then  the  ciphers  would  reap- 
pear, and  the  product  of  her  "work"  expand,  gradually 
rising  above  the  thirty  thousand ;  but  this  amount  seemed 
to  be  the  fatal  number  for  Alicia,  for  soon  after  reaching 
it  her  winnings  would  always  fall  to  their  usual  level. 

"Last  night  I  was  lucky ;  I  succeeded  in  winning  four- 
teen thousand  francs.  But  last  week  was  bad.  Sum  to- 
tal, I'm  still  at  thirty  thousand :  impossible  to  get  any  far- 
ther. And  I  don't  run  any  chances,  I'm  afraid,  and  don't 
take  advantage  of  the  good  runs  of  luck  I  do  have.  I 
ought  to  go  on  doubling,  and  doubling.  I'm  afraid  of 
losing  it  all  on  a  single  stake.  If  I  only  had  a  working 
capital!  If  I  were  to  go  into  the  Casino  some  afternoon 
with  a  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  thousand  francs ! 
That's  the  way  to  master  luck.  I  ought  to  play  big  stakes. 
Imagine  me,  betting  a  hundred,  and  even  as  low  as 
twenty  franc  chips,  like  a  retired  money  lender!  That's 
the  reason  fortune  doesn't  notice  me,  and  passes  by  on 
the  other  side." 

The  Prince  shook  his  head.    He  refused  to  help  her 


170  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

with  her  follies.  Wasn't  it  better  to  keep  those  thou- 
sands of  francs,  instead  of  losing  them  in  no  time,  as 
would  happen  when  she  was  least  expecting  it  ? 

"You're  not  a  gambler,  I  know,"  she  said.  "You  have 
never  felt  attracted  to  that  sort  of  pleasure.  That's  why 
you  don't  realize  the  mysterious  power  of  the  game,  and 
give  advice  about  something  you  don't  understand.  If  I 
were  to  give  up  playing,  I  would  feel  my  poverty  at  once ; 
then  I  would  be  really  poor.  While  you  play,  you  always 
have  money  in  your  hands;  you  win,  and  lose,  but  you 
never  lack  the  necessities  of  life.  And  if  you  lose  every- 
thing you  can  still  get  what  you  need  to  start  in  again.  I 
don't  know  how  it  is,  but  a  gambler  always  has  plenty 
of  money.  A  single  coin  puts  him  on  his  feet  again  in 
five  minutes.  It's  the  poor  man  who  doesn't  play  who 
goes  around  with  empty  pockets,  without  hope  or  means 
of  improving  his  situation." 

Michael  continued  his  mimicry  of  protest.  That  was 
all  an  old  story  to  him;  it  was  the  way  Spadoni,  and 
even  Castro,  talked,  but  with  a  certain  added  fanaticism, 
characteristic  of  women,  who,  mystics  in  money  matters, 
are  always  inclined  to  believe  in  presentiments  and  mys- 
terious influences. 

"Don't  count  on  my  helping  you  to  gamble.  Besides, 
I'm  poor.  At  the  present  moment  the  Colonel  must  have 
less  cash  in  the  strong  box  than  you.  I'm  almost  tempted 
to  ask  you  to  loan  me  your  thirty  thousand  francs." 

They  both  laughed  at  the  idea  of  this  loan.  And  she 
had  come  as  a  debtor  to  ask  his  aid ! 

"I  don't  know  what  I  can  do  for  you;  it's  impossible 
for  me  to  tell  just  what  my  situation  is ;  but  I'll  do  what 
I  can.  Let's  have  hope:  one  must  be  patient.  These 
times  can't  last." 

"No ;  they  can't  last." 

Again  the  thought  of  the  ridiculousness  of  their  being 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  171 

poor  so  unexpectedly,  came  over  them.  But  was  it  logical 
to  think  that  the  world  would  go  on  in  the  same  normal 
fashion  after  such  radical  divergences  from  the  natural 
order? 

They  felt  drawn  together  in  the  solidarity  of  misfor- 
tune ;  they  suddenly  met,  like  brother  and  sister,  fallen  at 
the  foot  of  a  mountain  peak,  on  the  heights  of  which 
they  had  previously  avoided  each  other,  rudely  clashing 
in  uncontrollable  hostility. 

At  present  Michael  had  a  feeling  of  being  attracted  to 
her,  for  a  reason  that  was  absolutely  novel.  Since  his 
youth  he  had  hated  the  daughter  of  Dona  Mercedes,  for 
her  pride,  and  for  the  air  of  overwhelming  superiority 
which  she  maintained  even  in  those  moments  of  love 
when  nearly  every  woman  freely  humbles  herself  to  take 
shelter  in  a  man's  arms  like  a  happy  slave.  She  could 
give  herself  only  with  a  manner  of  haughty  condescen- 
sion, as  a  haughty  alms,  much  as  a  goddess  might  come 
to  a  poor  mortal. 

And  now,  seeing  her  come  to  him  thus  simply,  to  en- 
treat his  aid,  without  the  rancor  of  humiliated  pride,  hid- 
ing her  fear  with  friendly  merriment,  desirous  of  forget- 
ting the  past,  he  felt  all  his  old  antipathy  melt  away. 

He  had  always  been  a  protector,  a  lover  in  the  oriental 
fashion,  incapable  of  caring  for  any  women  except  those 
of  his  harem,  who  owed  everything  to  his  munificence, 
from  their  slippers  to  the  plumes  in  their  turbans,  from 
the  jewels  that  adorned  their  breasts,  to  the  sweetmeats 
they  ate,  the  pipes  they  smoked,  and  the  musical  instru- 
ments which  accompanied  their  songs.  Alicia  did  not  in- 
terest him  as  a  woman ;  neither  she  nOr  any  other !  But 
he  felt  the  sympathy  of  comradeship  in  seeing  her  in  need 
of  his  protection ;  somewhat  the  same  feeling  that  he  had 
towards  Castro,  the  Colonel,  and  the  other  occupants  of 
Villa  Sirena.    He  even  thought  to  himself  that  misfor- 


172  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tune  was  acceptable,  so  long  as  it  tended  to  make  people 
show  their  real  character  once  more.  This  Alicia,  so 
odious  to  him  in  early  youth,  might  finally  turn  out  to  be 
quite  a  good  friend,  now  that  she  found  herself  freed 
from  the  influence  of  vanity  and  of  her  bad  bringing  up. 

"You  have  done  enough  just  in  receiving  me  here,"  she 
continued.  "I  know  the  limitation  of  my  rights :  I'm  in 
hostile  territory.  This  is  the  house  of  'The  Enemies  of 
Women.' " 

The  Prince  pretended  not  to  hear  her.  Somebody  had 
been  talking;  perhaps  it  was  Castro,  who  could  never 
keep  anything  from  Doiia  Clorinda. 

They  walked  through  the  gardens.  Alicia  stopped  sud- 
denly in  front  of  a  little  piece  of  cultivated  ground,  where 
a  few  vegetables  were  beginning  to  spring  from  the  soil. 

"This  is  where  you  work?  I  know  you  amuse  your- 
self working  in  your  garden,  just  as  other  Russian  princes 
do  by  making  shoes." 

So  she  knew  this  too  ?  Oh,  that  tattle-tale  rogue  of  a 
Castro ! 

In  the  Greek  garden,  one  of  the  marble  benches  sup- 
ported by  four  winged  Victories  attracted  her  attention, 
causing  her  to  stop  for  a  moment  with  a  pensive  expres- 
sion on  her  face. 

"Do  you  remember  the  old  man  on  the  bench  near  the 
Trojan  wall?"  she  suddenly  said. 

Michael  did  not  know  how  to  answer  her  question ;  but 
after  a  few  moments  he  remembered,  as  though  her  fixed 
stare  communicated  to  him  the  vision  of  that  night  in 
which  he  had  brutally  left  her, 

"How  you  laughed  at  me!  What  a  fool  I  must  have 
seemed !  Yes :  I  was  unbearable.  I  was  Venus ;  I  was 
the  center  of  the  world;  everything  in  existence,  people 
and  things,  had  been  created  for  my  special  benefit.  I  felt 
it  was  my  mission  to  make  the  world  endure  my  whims, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  173 

and  that  the  world  ought  to  thank  me  on  its  knees  for 
paying  any  attention  to  it.  What  can  you  expect!  It 
was  youth,  and  the  childish  pride  of  our  Springtime, 
which  imagines  itself  eternal.  And  afterwards!  If  I 
were  to  tell  you  all  the  disillusionments,  and  all  the  sor- 
rows that  I  experienced,  even  back  in  the  days  when  I 
didn't  have  to  worry  about  money !  Winter  sweeps  away 
all  our  fancies  of  Maytime!" 

"But  you're  not  an  old  woman  yet !"  Michael  exclaimed, 
"You  still  inspire  romantic  love  in  young  men.  You're 
fooling  yourself  or  trying  to  make  fun  of  me.  There  are 
still  lots  of  men  who,  when  they  see  you,  would  ..." 

"Perhaps,"  she  replied,  "but  you,  my  dear,  are  not 
one  of  them.    Confess  it;  I've  never  pleased  you." 

The  Prince  decided  not  to  confess  anything,  and 
changed  the  conversation.  These  allusions  to  the  past 
annoyed  him.  Alicia  irritated  him,  every  time  she  at- 
tempted to  revive  her  charms  as  a  siren  of  men. 

They  wandered  about  for  more  than  half  an  hour  on 
the  various  garden  terraces.  From  time  to  time,  in  pass- 
ing a  clearing  in  the  shrubbery,  Michael  cast  a  stealthy 
glance  in  the  direction  of  the  villa.  No  one  was  at  the 
windows;  but  he  himself  felt  an  inner  agitation  at  this 
visit.  He  was  sure  they  were  spying  on  him.  Atilio, 
from  behind  the  window  curtains,  was  undoubtedly  fol- 
lowing their  promenade  among  the  trees.  Perhaps  Spa- 
doni,  who  had  spent  the  night  at  Villa  Sirena,  was 
jumping  out  of  bed,  and  losing  two  hours  of  sleep,  in 
order  to  contemplate  this  surprising  spectacle.  Even 
Novoa  might  have  stopped  reading  to  look  in  the  direction 
of  the  garden. 

Alicia  herself  noticed  the  fact  that  no  one  was  visible, 
neither  guest  nor  servants.  She  and  the  Prince  seemed 
to  be  walking  through  an  enchanted  park. 

As  they  went  in  the  direction  of  the  gate  they  met  Don 


174  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Marcos,  who  was  hurriedly  coming  out  of  the  gardener's 
lodge. 

The  Duchess  held  out  her  hand  to  Michael,  who  kissed 
it  ceremoniously. 

"I  hope  we  are  to  see  each  other  again  in  the  Casino." 

He  shook  his  head.  The  gaming  rooms  bored  him :  he 
had  no  idea  of  going  there. 

"I  would  have  liked  to  meet  you  there.  I'm  sure  you 
would  bring  me  luck." 

For  a  moment  she  seemed  undecided.  She  had  no 
thought  of  returning  to  Villa  Sirena,  where  there  was 
no  one  but  men :  she  was  convinced  that  she  was  a  nui- 
sance there. 

"Come  and  see  me  to-morrow.  The  Colonel  knows 
where  I  live.  Come,  and  we'll  have  a  laugh  at  the  way  the 
Duchess  de  Delille  is  living.    It's  rather  interesting." 

She  went  over  to  the  livery  carriage  which  was  wait- 
ing for  her  outside  the  gate.  Before  getting  in  she 
turned  to  urge  him,  in  a  tone  of  playful  threat: 

"If  you  don't  come,  you'll  never  see  me  again.  I  shall 
think  you  want  to  break  with  me,  that  you  think  I'm  a 
bore,  and  don't  like  me.    I  shall  expect  you." 

As  the  carriage  drove  oflP,  she  waved  farewell. 

"It  was  about  time!"  Michael  exclaimed,  on  finding 
himself  alone. 

It  had  been  a  visit  of  an  hour  and  a  half.  It  had 
kept  him  continuously  at  a  nervous  tension,  weighing 
his  words,  and  avoiding  too  great  an  expression  of 
friendliness,  giving  advice  without  any  interest  whatso- 
ever, and  leaving  the  past  in  silence.  He  preferred  the 
confidence  and  lack  of  restraint  of  the  conversations  with 
his  comrades. 

On  thinking  of  the  latter,  his  feeling  of  annoyance 
returned.  How  Castro  would  smile,  when  he  sat  down 
at  the  table !    He  could  hear  his  voice  already  saying  iron- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  175 

ically :  "No  women !"  And  the  first  to  appear  had  made 
him  as  sheepishly  obedient  as  a  prior  breaking  the  rule  of 
the  monastery  to  receive  a  Queen. 

This  worry  caused  him  to  speak  to  the  Colonel,  who 
was  walking  along  at  his  side  in  silence,  accompanying 
him  from  the  gate  to  the  house.    Where  was  Castro? 

"In  the  library  with  Lord  Lewis.  His  Lordship  ar- 
rived while  Your  Highness  was  in  the  garden.  He  has 
come  to  lunch." 

He  was  a  nice  Englishman !  He  had  taken  it  into  his 
head  of  his  own  accord  to  choose  this  day,  after  so  many 
futile  invitations!  While  that  Englishman  was  present, 
Castro  would  talk  of  nothing  but  gaming.  .  And  Michael 
went  in  search  of  Lewis. 

The  latter  was  the  son  of  the  great  historian,  whose 
country  had  rewarded  him  with  the  title  of  lord.  But 
this  title  was  only  to  be  inherited  by  the  oldest  son  of  the 
family,  and  no  one  but  Toledo,  who  always  exag- 
gerated the  importance  of  his  friends,  called  the 
second  son  Lord  Lewis.  He  had  been  in  Monte  Carlo  for 
twenty-five  years,  and  the  old  employees  in  the  Casino, 
seeing  his  bald  head  sadly  bowed  above  the  gaming  tables, 
recalled  the  gentleman  of  former  times,  elegant,  gay,  and 
vigorous.  He  had  come  to  the  Riviera,  on  one  of  his 
Byronic  "pilgrimages,"  and  there  he  had  remained,  not 
caring  to  see  any  more  of  the  world.  The  passion  for 
gambling  was  the  one  inexhaustible  pleasure  for  this  man 
who  had  tried  them  all,  and  who  was  bored  by  the 
majority. 

The  real  Lord  Lewis,  a  solemn  person,  who  maintained 
the  prestige  of  the  family  name,  had  several  children, 
and  had  served  his  country  in  various  high  positions  in  the 
Colonies.  As  for  the  Colonel's  "Lord,"  he  was  gradually 
losing  all  his  former  connections,  and  becoming  a  mere 
Monte  Carlo  gambler. 


176  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Twenty-five  years!"  he  had  remarked  with  sadness 
one  day  to  the  Prince.  "And  I  shall  never  be  able  to 
do  anything  else !  It's  too  late  now  to  get  a  fresh  start. 
My  life  is  ended,  and  they  will  bury  me  here,  I'm  sure; 
all  that  I  inherited  from  my  father,  and  all  that  several 
old  aunts  left  me  will  remain  here.  There  have  been 
times,  when  I  saw  things  as  they  are,  and  undertook  to 
run  away.  But  when  I'm  at  a  distance,  I  feel  violently 
indignant.  I  remember  that  I've  dropped  more  than  a 
miUion  here,  I  think  that  I  ought  not  to  resign  myself  to 
the  loss,  and  in  order  to  recover  it,  I  come  back  at  once 
to  play,  and  lose  again.  I  shall  go  on  doing  like  that 
until  I  die.     Besides,  there's  the  castle.  .  .  ." 

Michael  was  acquainted  with  the  castle.  It  was  on  a 
peak  of  the  Maritime  Alps,  in  sight  of  Monte  Carlo, 
near  the  village  of  La  Turbie  and  the  remains  of  the 
Trophy  of  Augustus  which  marks  the  ancient  Roman 
road. 

During  his  first  years  of  life  on  the  Riviera,  the 
aristocratic  Lewis  had  bought  for  a  few  thousand  francs 
the  ruins  of  a  lordly  stronghold  that  possessed  the  ro- 
mantic tradition  of  having  witnessed  wars  with  the 
Counts  of  Provence,  and  scenes  of  family  violence  and 
murder.  The  son  of  the  Historian,  fonder  of  sport  than 
of  literature,  considered  it  a  matter  of  filial  homage  to 
reconstruct  within  sight  of  the  Mediterranean  a  castle 
such  as  his  father  had  described  in  telling  the  legends  of 
his  country.  Part  of  his  fortune  had  gone  into  this.  The 
rest  had  been  devoted  to  gambling.  "With  what  I  win," 
he  used  to  say  to  himself,  "I  shall  finish  the  castle."  And 
since  he  imagined  he  would  win  fabulous  sums,  he 
started  the  reconstruction  on  a  gigantic  scale,  directing  it 
himself,  according  to  the  architectural  fancies  he  had 
studied  out  from  the  drawings  of  Gustave  Dore.  The 
castle  had  remained  half  built,  standing  thus  for  many 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  177 

years.  On  the  one  side  that  was  completed,  the  walls 
displayed  huge  gloomy-looking  windows  with  stained 
glass.  On  the  side  opposite,  the  timber  of  the  scaffold- 
ing was  rotting ;  the  unfinished  walls  stood  there  meeting 
at  right  angles,  and  the  wind  and  rain  entered  the  future 
drawing  rooms,  for  lack  of  a  fourth  wall  to  shut  them 
off.    They  were  open  to  the  view  like  a  stage  setting. 

Whenever  Lord  Lewis'  friends  did  not  meet  him  in 
Monte  Carlo  it  was  because  he  was  out  of  money,  and 
was  staying  in  his  castle,  sadly  contemplating  all  that 
remained  to  be  done.  He  lived  in  one  of  the  wings  that 
was  most  nearly  completed,  and  passed  the  lonely  hours 
in  fighting  with  his  peasant  neighbors,  the  market  peo- 
ple, and  with  every  one  in  the  district  in  fact,  who  con- 
sidered it  a  duty  to  annoy  him  and  exploit  him  in  every 
possible  way. 

Whenever  a  remittance  of  a  thousand  or  two  thousand 
pounds  sterling  arrived  from  England,  he  proudly  de- 
scended from  his  mountain  to  the  Castle.  He  had  a  great 
aim  in  life,  and  he  felt  he  must  accomplish  it.  This 
time  he  was  going  to  triumph !  And  when,  after  exciting 
fluctuations — his  capital  sometimes  increasing,  as  though 
his  hopes  were  about  to  be  realized — he  finally  lost  every- 
thing, Lewis  would  return  to  his  refuge  on  the  heights, 
and  to  his  hermit's  life,  in  hopes  of  new  remittances, 
which  were  less  frequent  and  more  difficult  to  get  each 
time. 

The  Prince  had  visited  him  once,  in  this  new  yet 
crumbling  stronghold,  to  invite  him  on  a  long  voyage  on 
his  yacht.  But  Lewis  refused.  He  must  continue  his 
duel  with  the  Casino  to  get  back  his  money;  he  was 
under  obligation  to  finish  his  undertaking. 

The  war  had  awakened  him  for  a  few  weeks  from  the 
grip  of  his  wild  dream.  His  brother  had  died  a  few 
weeks  before;  but  countless   young  nephews   still  re- 


178  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

mained.  They  had  given  up  their  comforts  and  pleasures 
in  high  society  to  offer  their  lives.  Some  of  them,  who 
were  in  the  navy,  had  embarked  on  small  vessels,  tor- 
pedo-boats and  submarines,  seeking  the  greatest  dangers ; 
others  entered  the  army  as  officers.  A  niece  of  his  even, 
delicate  in  health,  had  been  decorated  on  the  firing  line, 
for  her  sacrifices  as  a  nurse. 

"And  I,  miserable  selfish  man  that  I  am,"  he  said,  in 
talking  with  the  Colonel  at  the  Casino,  "go  on  being  a 
mere  Monte  Carlo  gambler.  I  ought  to  be  out  there, 
where  the  men  are,  but  I  can't.  ...  I  can't!  My  days 
are  over;  I'm  a  corpse  that  eats  and  sleeps  just  to  go  on 
gambling.  Add  to  that  the  fact  that  some  of  my  rela- 
tives, older  than  I  am,  are  in  the  army !" 

At  the  age  of  fifty-four,  the  consciousness  of  his  moral 
decay,  and  his  continual  losses,  had  embittered  his  nature. 
Besides,  the  evenings  that  luck  was  against  him  he  kept 
going  out  to  the  Casino  bar,  seeking  inspiration  in  one 
whisky  after  another  gulped  down  in  haste.  Heavy  set, 
with  square  shoulders,  a  small  head,  deep  blue  eyes  and  a 
red  mustache  streaked  with  gray,  he  reminded  Atilio 
somewhat  of  a  wild  boar,  perhaps  because  of  his  aggres- 
siveness and  gruffness  when  he  was  in  a  bad  humor. 
He  gambled  with  his  head  sunk  between  his  shoulders, 
his  strong  hands  resting  on  the  green  baize,  without 
looking  at  any  one,  and  without  allowing  any  one  to  talk 
to  him,  since  it  disturbed  his  calculations.  The  days  when 
things  were  going  wrong,  and  he  was  having  arguments 
in  regard  to  some  doubtful  play,  with  the  employees  or 
with  those  who  were  sitting  near  him  at  the  tables, 
Lewis's  outburst  of  rage  broke  the  discreet  calm  of  the 
gaming  rooms.  He  insulted  the  croupiers,  inviting  them 
to  step  outside  on  the  Square,  while  his  biceps  swelled 
like  a  prize  fighter's.    It  was  necessary  to  call  one  of  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  179 

principal  directors  to  pacify  him  with  all  the  paternal 
considerations  which  a  steady  patron  deserved. 

This  man,  who  in  his  youth  had  believed  in  neither 
God  nor  devil,  lived  a  constant  prey  to  superstitions 
which  were  Castro's  delight.  He  detested  strange  faces, 
feeling  certain  that  they  exercised  on  him  an  evil  in- 
fluence. It  was  enough  that  he  should  see  one  across  the 
green  table,  or  behind  his  seat,  to  cause  him  to  begin  to 
growl  in  an  undertone,  until  finally  he  would  get  up  and 
go  out  to  the  bar,  with  the  idea  that  a  whisky  taken 
in  time  would  change  his  luck.  His  intimate  friend,  the 
only  one  who  could  live  with  him  for  several  days  in 
succession,  was  a  French  count,  older  than  Lewis,  and 
who  was  simply  called  by  his  title,  as  though  he  were 
nameless,  or  as  though  he  were  just  naturally  "The 
Count."  The  latter  never  gambled,  but  he  was  ever  so 
wise,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  many  people  considered  him 
insane !  One  day,  thirty  years  ago,  he  had  stepped  out  of 
his  house  in  Paris,  saying  that  he  was  going  out  to  buy 
some  tobacco,  and  he  had  not  yet  returned.  His  wife 
had  died  without  seeing  him,  and  his  children,  and  count- 
less grand-children,  who  had  been  born  and  had  grown 
up  during  his  absence,  were  anxious  that  he  should  never 
finish  making  his  purchase. 

While  Lewis  played,  the  Count,  seated  on  a  divan, 
quietly  read  some  book,  without  paying  any  attention  to 
the  curiosity  of  the  public,  which  stared  at  his  long 
white  hair  brushed  back,  his  enormous  wild-looking 
mustache,  his  round  green  eyes,  gleaming  with  phos- 
phorescence like  those  of  a  night  hawk.  Castro's  curi- 
osity was  aroused  by  the  Count's  books.  They  were 
always  new  volumes  of  the  sort  that  are  never  seen  in 
any  book  store,  and  are  published  by  obscure  unknown 
firms;  conscientious   treatises  on  the  nectars  and  am- 


i8o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

brosias  of  modem  life — opium,  cocaine,  morphine,  and 
ether — formulas  by  which  one  can  enter  into  direct  com- 
munication with  the  mysterious  powers — spirits,  hob- 
goblins, and  familiar  demons— old  books  of  magic 
brought  to  light  by  up-to-date  sorcerers. 

He  never  deigned  to  give  his  friend  advice  as  to 
gambling ;  his  thoughts  were  on  higher  things ;  but  Lewis 
felt  surer  whenever  he  raised  his  eyes  and  saw  him,  by 
chance,  reading  in  a  corner.  As  long  as  he  was  there, 
he  always  won,  or  at  least  he  did  not  lose  much.  His 
presence  was  enough  to  conjure  the  evil  power  of  the 
infinite  number  of  enemies  which  the  Englishman  felt 
were  surrounding  the  table.  Besides,  he  was  aware  of 
the  object  which  the  Count  was  fondling  secretly  with 
one  hand,  while  he  went  on  reading. 

After  he  had  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  for  several 
days  in  succession,  Lewis  would  come  to  him,  entreat- 
ingly : 

"Count,  my  dear  Count,  if  you  would  please  lend  me 
your  Satan's  rosary!" 

The  learned  personage  would  look  up,  doubtful  and 
hesitating.  But  since  it  was  his  best  friend  who  asked 
for  it,  he  would  hand  the  rosary  over,  which  meant  that 
one  of  his  hands  would  be  left  without  anything  to  do. 
It  was  a  rosary  like  any  other,  with  large  red  beads  and 
black  ones  to  mark  off  the  tens.  The  chief  thing  about 
it  was  the  group  of  objects  which  hung  in  place  of  the 
missing  cross :  an  ivory  elephant  picked  up  by  the  Count 
in  India,  an  authentic  coin  of  the  Emperor  Constantine 
found  in  the  excavations  at  Anatolia,  and  another  charm 
which  even  Lewis  could  scarcely  look  upon  without  a 
sense  of  revulsion. 

Ill  luck  was  vanquished.  At  times  Lewis  had  lost 
while  he  was  secretly  telling  the  beads  of  the  diabolical 
rosary  under  the  table ;  but  he  always  lost  less  than  when 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  i8r 

he  was  deprived  of  the  marvelous  talisman.  He  only 
cared  to  remember  how  one  afternoon,  aided  by  the 
obscene  sacrilegious  thing  so  highly  prized  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  winning  eighty  thousand  francs. 

If  he  stopped  winning  it  was  the  Count's  fault.  He 
was  as  fickle  as  a  coquette.  He  would  suddenly  dis- 
appear, repeating  the  same  unexplainable  flight  that  had 
amazed  his  family.  He  never  left  Lewis  to  go  and  buy 
tobacco;  but  if  any  of  the  books  he  bought  told  about 
some  narcotic  used  in  Asia  to  enable  one  to  see  the  future, 
or  about  a  gypsy  woman  in  Granada  who  could  kill 
people  by  merely  wishing  and  saying  a  few  words,  then 
off  he  would  go,  accepting  as  gospel  truth  the  saying  of 
some  anonymous  writer  who  had  never  been  out  of  Paris. 
He  never  lacked  money  for  these  mysterious  trips : 
doubtless  his  family  was  interested  in  keeping  him  at  a 
distance.  He  might  be  three  months  or  five  years  in 
reappearing.  At  last  the  rumor  would  reach  Lewis 
that  his  friend  was  living  in  Nice  or  Cannes,  and  he 
would  then  write  him  frequently,  inviting  him  to  come 
over  to  Monte  Carlo.  He  even  used  to  go  after  him 
and  the  Count  would  allow  himself  to  be  brought  back 
with  his  mysterious  books  and  his  prodigious  rosary, 
without  ever  saying  a  word  about  what  discoveries  he 
had  made  on  his  trips. 

On  seeing  Lewis,  after  a  year's  absence,  the  Prince 
was  obliged  to  conceal  his  surprise.  Nothing  save  the 
clear,  quiet,  gentle  eyes,  recalled  the  vanished  freshness 
of  the  athletic  and  elegant  gentleman.  He  had  grown 
thin  in  an  alarming  manner,  with  the  emaciation  of  ill- 
ness. His  skull  seemed  to  have  shrunk,  and  across  his 
baldness  strayed  the  few  scattered  ashen  locks  that  still 
remained. 

A  remark  made  by  the  Colonel  came  to  his  mind. 
Toledo  had  made  a  study  of  the  decadence  of  gamblers. 


l82  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

It  was  when  they  reached  the  last  Hmits  of  depression 
and  despair  that  they  began  to  stoop,  to  shrivel  up,  and 
become  wrinkled.  Lewis'  hat  was  getting  too  big  for 
him;  each  day  it  sat  farther  down  on  his  head  until  it 
rested  on  his  ears.  His  shirt  collar  was  also  getting 
larger,  as  though  it  were  making  room  for  his  sorrow- 
ing heart  to  take  flight. 

During  the  lunch,  Lewis,  Castro  and  Spadoni  kept 
up  the  conversation.  They  talked  about  gambling  and 
the  Casino,  but  no  one  dared  ask  the  Englishman  if  he 
had  been  winning.  He  had  a  superstitious  fear  of  this 
question,  as  if  it  brought  misfortune.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  talked  about  other  people's  good  luck,  and  the  great 
stakes  that  had  been  won  in  a  night.  He  kept  in  his 
mind  all  that  he  had  been  told,  and  all  that  he  had 
imagined  he  had  seen  during  twenty-five  years  of  life 
at  Monte  Carlo.  An  American  had  gone  away  with  a 
million;  an  Englishman  had  won  ten  thousand  pounds 
sterling  with  five  louis  that  he  had  borrowed.  Thus  he 
went  on  talking  about  the  wonders  that  had  happened 
in  the  Casino.  And  after  that  could  there  still  be  people 
to  assert  that  all,  absolutely  all,  of  the  gamblers,  lose 
in  the  end? 

With  eyes  that  glistened  with  astonishment  and  greed, 
the  pianist  listened  to  the  tales  of  the  "Dean  of  the 
Gamblers."  Castro  was  more  skeptical.  He  had  heard  of 
these  extraordinary  winnings,  and  of  many  others,  but 
had  never  witnessed  a  single  one  of  them,  although  he 
had  been  coming  to  Monte  Carlo  for  a  good  many  years. 
It  was  true  that  he  had  seen  as  much  as  five  hundred 
thousand  francs  won  in  a  single  night.  But  the  next 
day  things  had  changed,  and  the  winner  had  lost  all 
his  gains,  and  all  the  money  he  had  brought,  into  the 
bargain,  finally  being  obliged  to  ask  for  the  customary 
viaticum  in  order  to  be  able  to  return  to  his  country. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  183 

"I  think,"  he  said,  "all  these  stories  are  invented  by 
the  advertising  department  of  the  Casino.  They  tell 
me  they  have  engaged  a  popular  novelist,  whose  business 
it  is  to  start  a  story  like  that  every  week,  in  order  to 
encourage  the  gamblers." 

The  Prince  smiled  at  this  invention  of  his  friend,  but 
Lewis  would  not  listen  to  jokes  on  such  a  serious  subject, 
and  asserted  that  he  had  witnessed  everything  that  he 
related.  He  was  lying  unconsciously  in  making  this 
statement.  In  reality  he  had  seen  the  same  things  as 
Atilio :  people  who  won  to  lose  later  on ;  but  he  felt  the 
need  of  the  supernatural  and  was  inclined  to  believe 
everything  in  advance.  He  had  the  soul  of  a  fanatic, 
who,  when  told  of  a  miracle,  affirms  a  few  days  later  with 
sincerity:  "I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes." 

Every  now  and  then  the  Prince  would  eye  Castro, 
expecting  to  surprise  some  ironic  glance,  something 
which  would  reveal  his  impressions  in  regard  to  the 
visit  he  had  received  that  morning.  Lewis'  presence 
seemed  to  have  obliterated  all  memory  of  anything  un- 
related to  gambling. 

When  the  luncheon  was  over  they  talked  in  the  hall, 
over  their  coffee,  about  those  who  played  for  big  stakes 
in  the  private  rooms.  The  names  of  some  of  them  were 
spoken  of  with  respect,  as  though  they  were  masters, 
worthy  of  admiration. 

"So-and-so  knows  how  to  play,"  was  the  one  comment. 

The  amusing  part  of  it  for  Michael  was  the  fact  that 
Lewis  also  figured  among  the  masters  "who  knew  how 
to  play,"  and  every  one  of  them  lost,  like  those  who  were 
"ignorant."  Their  one  merit  rested  on  their  ability  to 
put  off  the  hour  of  final  ruin,  and  prolong  the  an- 
nihilating emotion,  growing  old  like  prisoners  in  the 
shadow  of  the  rocky  cliffs  of  the  Principality. 

The  Prince  looked  at  Castro  once  more,  as  at  a  clever 


i84  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

enemy  who  is  hiding  his  thoughts.  He  ventured  to 
ask  a  question. 

"And  how  does  my  relative,  the  Duchess  de  DeUlle, 
play?" 

Atilio  looked  at  him,  with  not  so  much  as  a  mis- 
chievous twinkle  in  his  eyes,  surprised  at  the  interest 
shown  by  the  Prince.  But  before  he  could  reply,  Lewis 
broke  in  with  an  answer.  The  latter  hated  women, 
especially  at  the  gaming  tables.  They  were  only  a  nui- 
sance, interrupting  the  calculations  of  the  men,  with 
their  nervous  looks  and  gestures. 

"She  plays  like  an  idiot,"  he  said  brutally.  "She 
plays  like  any  woman.  .  .  .  The  money  she's  lost  like 
a  fool!" 

Castro  intervened  as  though  desiring  the  conversation 
to  go  no  further. 

"How  about  the  Count  ?"  he  asked  Lewis.  "Where  is 
he  ?    The  Colonel  is  very  much  interested  in  him." 

Don  Marcos  gave  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and 
reproach.  He  had  formed  his  own  opinion  of  that  person 
a  long  time  ago.  He  was  a  crazy  man !  He  would 
never  forget  the  brief  dialogue  they  had  had  one  after- 
noon in  the  Casino,  after  Atilio  had  introduced  them. 
On  learning  Toledo's  nationality  he  had  launched  into  a 
great  eulogy  of  Spain.  Oh,  Spain !  What  an  interesting 
language  it  had!  And  when  the  Colonel  was  about  to 
thank  him  for  his  extreme  politeness,  he  was  dumb- 
founded by  the  following  remark,  that  took  away  his 
breath : 

"Because,  as  you  probably  know,  Spanish  is  the  pre- 
ferred language  of  the  devil,  after  Latin.  The  most 
powerful  charms  are  written  in  Spanish.  What  wonder- 
ful necromancers  in  Toledo !  What  learned  sorcerers  in 
Salamanca !" 

The  old  soldier  who  had  fought  for  the  Most  Catholic 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  185 

king  was  always  greatly  disturbed  when  he  thought  of 
the  Count  and  his  rosary.  For  this  reason  when  Lewis 
declared  that  he  had  no  idea  of  the  whereabouts  of  his 
friend,  he  solemnly  replied: 

"I  know  where  he  is :  in  a  mad  house." 

Suddenly  the  roar  of  a  train  was  heard  passing  Villa 
Sirena,  accompanied  by  shouts  and  whistling.  They  were 
more  Englishmen  on  their  way  to  Italy. 

This  caused  them  to  take  up  the  subject  of  the  war. 
Lewis,  who  had  imbibed  freely  at  the  table,  was  over- 
come at  once  with  an  intense  sadness,  the  talk  of  gam- 
bling having  reminded  him  of  the  worthlessness  of  his 
life.  His  intoxication  was  of  the  solemn,  melancholy 
kind. 

"Two  of  my  nephews  died  in  the  Jutland  naval  battle. 
Six  of  my  brother's  sons  were  killed  in  France,  in  a 
single  afternoon:  they  belonged  to  the  same  battalion. 
They  were  all  young,  spirited,  and  anxious  to  do  some- 
thing. I'm  the  only  man  left  in  the  family;  I'm  the 
worthless  one,  the  old  man,  good  for  nothing.  It's  ter- 
rible!" 

No  one  said  anything,  realizing  the  shame  and  despair 
of  this  man,  who  seemed  to  be  weeping  over  the  ruins 
of  his  aimless  existence.  Novoa  nodded  slightly,  as 
though  approving  of  his  words. 

"My  family  is  extinct.  And  there  were  so  many  young 
men  in  it !  Life  is  strange.  Time  goes  by  without  any- 
thing extraordinary  happening,  and  then  all  of  a  sudden 
the  hours  are  like  months,  the  days  like  years,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  things  take  place  that  usually  require  cen- 
turies. All  dead!  None  left  but  my  niece  Mary,  the 
nurse.  She  is  hete;  her  superiors  ordered  her  away 
almost  by  force,  to  take  a  rest  and  recuperate.  But, 
anxious  to  resume  her  service,  she  got  away  to  Menton 
and  Nice,  where  there  are  wounded  men.     If  at  least 


l86  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

she  would  only  marry!  But  it  can't  be:  she  will  die 
like  the  rest.  And  I  shall  remain  alone,  and  be  a  lord, 
the  third  Lord  Lewis;  Lord  Lewis  the  Historian,  Lord 
Lewis  the  Colonel  Governor,  and  Lord  Lewis  the 
Wastrel.  .  .  ." 

At  this  point  they  all  stopped  him  in  affectionate  pro- 
test. The  misfortune  of  his  family  had  been  extraor- 
dinary, but  he  ought  not  to  torture  himself  like  that. 

'Tf  you  don't  mind.  Prince,"  said  the  Englishman, 
changing  the  conversation,  "some  day  I  shall  bring  my 
niece  to  let  her  see  your  gardens.  She  is  so  fond  of  such 
things !  She  is  the  only  one  of  the  family  to  inherit  my 
father's  spirit" 

After  saying  that,  Lewis  showed  signs  of  desiring  to 
go.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  forget,  and  he  knew 
where  oblivion  was  waiting  for  him.  For  a  gambler 
like  him,  it  was  no  more  possible  to  sit  still  than  it  would 
be  for  a  drunkard  who  is  thinking  of  a  bar  with  its  rows 
of  glasses.  Castro  and  Spadoni  exchanged  several 
glances  with  him. 

"What  do  you  say  to  dropping  in  at  the  Casino?"  one 
of  them  proposed. 

And  all  three  disappeared. 

The  Colonel  also  left,  and  the  Prince  spent  the  re- 
mainder of  the  afternoon  talking  with  Novoa,  walking 
about  the  gardens,  and  looking  at  the  sunset.  Finally,  he 
sat  down  in  the  hall  under  a  tall  rose-shaded  floor  lamp, 
to  read. 

Castro  returned  alone,  long  before  the  dinner  hour. 
He  was  sad;  he  whistled  occasionally.  His  smile  was  a 
savage  grin.  It  had  been  a  bad  afternoon.  He  had  lost 
everything !  The  next  day  he  would  have  to  ask  his  rela- 
tive for  a  fresh  loan  in  order  to  return  to  his  "work." 

Once  more  Michael  felt  compelled  to  talk  to  him  about 
the  call  he  had  received  that  morning.    It  was  better  to 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  187 

have  a  frank  explanation  and  avoid  ironical  allusions. 

"Yes,  I  saw  her,"  Castro  said.  "I  watched  you  from 
a  window  while  you  were  walking  through  the  gardens." 

The  Prince  looked  at  him,  astonished  at  his  brevity. 
Was  that  all  he  had  to  say  ?  At  present  he  felt  he  would 
have  preferred  his  joking, 

"What  of  it  if  she  did  come?"  at  last  he  said  brusquely. 
"That's  natural;  poor  woman!  I  warn  you  that  you've 
begun  the  conquest  of  an  enemy." 

He  had  met  "the  General"  in  the  Casino.  She  and 
Alicia  had  just  had  another  reconciliation,  and  to  seal 
their  renewed  friendship  with  a  fresh  burst  of  con- 
fidence, the  Duchess  Delille  had  related  her  interview 
with  the  Prince. 

"Doiia  Clorinda  used  to  be  unable  to  stand  you.  She 
considered  you  a  frivolous  fellow,  a  worthless  loafer. 
But  now  she  praises  you  to  the  skies,  because  of  your 
cancelling  that  enormous  debt,  and  proposing  to  help 
the  Duchess.  She  says  you  are  like  a  knight  of  old  times, 
and  that  you  are  big  hearted." 

Michael  shrugged  his  shoulders.  A  lot  he  cared  what 
Dona  Clorinda  thought!     This  exasperated  Castro, 

"Why  shouldn't  your  relatives  come  here?"  he  said 
sharply,  "You're  getting  bored  living  just  among  men 
all  the  time.  You  don't  believe  it,  but  it's  true.  It's  the 
same  with  all  of  us.  One  has  to  talk  with  a  woman  from 
time  to  time,  even  if  it's  only  out  of  friendship.  What 
you  claimed  when  you  came  from  Paris  is  impossible." 

"Perhaps  you  think  I'm  going  to  fall  in  love  with 
Alicia?" 

And  the  Prince  laughed  for  a  long  time,  as  though 
never  tiring  of  seeing  the  funny  side  of  such  an  absurd 
supposition. 

"You'll  find  that  out  later  on,"  Castro  replied.  "All  I 
have  to  say  is  that  we  can't  live  much  longer  as  enemies 


i88  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  women.  Look  at  the  Colonel:  he's  your  'Chamber- 
lain/ your  Aide,  the  man  who  obeys  you  blindly.  Well, 
even  he  is  deserting  you.  Just  notice :  whenever  he  can, 
he  spends  his  time  in  the  Porter's  lodge.  He  has  to 
talk  to  the  gardener's  daughter,  a  little  brat  he  used  to 
see  crawling  around  on  all  fours,  but  who  is  sixteen  now, 
and  not  bad  looking.  She  worked  in  a  millinery  shop  in 
Monte  Carlo,  but  follows  the  styles  like  a  young  society 
girl.  The  Colonel  keeps  her  provided  with  high-heeled 
shoes,  short  skirts,  tams,  and  smart  hats,  and  buys  her 
imitation  amber  beads.  That's  how  he  spends  all  the 
money  you  allow  him  to  take  for  his  services.  Some- 
times he  follows  her  at  a  distance  in  the  street,  admiring 
her  seductive  outline  and  her  ankles,  much  in  evidence, 
and  always  in  silk-stockings.  He  patiently  cultivates 
his  garden ;  and  smiles  like  a  fool  when  he  thinks  of  his 
future  harvest." 


CHAPTER  VI 


One  Sunday,  as  he  got  out  of  bed,  the  Pnnce  felt 
like  singing.  Perhaps  he  was  unconsciously  following  the 
example  of  some  birds,  which,  deceived  by  the  Sprmg- 
like  warmth  of  a  midwinter's  day,  had  been  warblmg  m 
the  eaves  of  Villa  Sirena  since  sunrise. 

He  looked  out  of  his  bedroom  window.  The  Medi- 
terranean, without  a  single  sail,  stretched  away  in  far-otl 
undulations,  to  where  it  met  the  sky.  The  gulls  were 
wheeling  in  circles,  continually  drooping  into  the  water 
folding  their  wings,  and  letting  themselves  be  carried 
along  by  the  waves.  The  sandy  depths,  stirred  by  the 
swells,  gave  the  blue  sea  a  lighter  shade,  which  attained, 
along  the  shore,  an  opalescent  hue,  like  that  of  absinthe. 
Around  the  promontory,  white  luminous  foam  was  con- 
stantly being  churned  among  the  projecting  rocks  of 

the  reefs.  „ 

The  Prince  heard  voices  above  him.  Castro  and  bpa- 
doni  were  talking  from  window  to  window.  The  mys- 
terious call  of  the  early  morning  beauty  had  caused  them 
to  jump  out  of  bed.  They  were  admiring  the  sky,  which 
did  not  have  a  trace  of  mist  to  dim  the  brightness  of  its 
farthest  reaches.  The  mountains  stood  out  m  extraor- 
dinary relief:  they  seemed  larger  and  nearer.  Above 
Cap-Martin,  the  Italian  Alps  descended  to  the  sea  their 
outlying  buttress,  at  the  water's  edge,  white  with  the 
frontier  towns:  Vintimiglia  and  Bordighera. 

Through  some  freak  of  the  atmosphere,  a  dense,  elon- 
gated cloud,  like  a  snow-covered  island,  was  floating  di- 

i8q 


I90  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

rectly  overhead  in  the  clear  sky.  Its  whiteness  seemed  to 
radiate  an  inner  light. 

"I  recognize  it,"  Atilio  said  with  a  tone  of  conviction 
to  the  musician,  who  did  not  seem  to  tire  of  looking  at 
it.  "I  have  seen  it  often.  When  the  day  turns  out  too 
bright,  the  Directors  of  the  Casino  are  afraid  that  the 
patrons  may  be  bored  by  so  much  sunlight,  and  the  vast 
expanse  of  azure :  blue  sea  and  blue  sky.  'Have  the  big 
cloud  brought  out,'  they  order  over  the  telephone.  You 
must  have  noticed  that  that  cloud  always  appears  from 
behind  the  mountains.  That's  where  the  Casino  has  its 
storehouses.  They  don't  neglect  details  here  when  it 
comes  to  entertaining  their  patrons." 

Michael  heard  two  exclamations:  one  of  surprise  and 
the  other  of  indignation.  Next  he  heard  the  sound  of 
a  window  suddenly  closed.  The  piainist,  not  in  a  mood 
for  joking  at  so  early  an  hour,  was  going  back  to  bed, 
to  sleep  until  lunch  time. 

The  Prince  hurried  through  his  toilet.  He  felt  the 
need  of  getting  out  and  going  somewhere,  as  though  his 
gardens  seemed  too  small  for  him.  In  the  distance  the 
bells  of  Monte  Carlo  were  ringing,  and  still  farther  off 
those  of  Monaco  were  replying;  and  the  merry  pealing  of 
the  chimes  caused  the  clear  brittle  air  to  vibrate  like  a 
crystal  glass. 

He  went  down  stairs  slowly,  trying  not  to  make  any 
noise,  and  when  he  reached  the  gate  he  breathed  freely. 
He  had  not  met  any  of  his  companions,  not  even  the 
Colonel.  As  though  attracted  by  the  Sunday  morning 
atmosphere  of  gaiety  which,  as  the  afternoon  wears  on, 
changes  to  tiresome  ennui,  he  decided  to  walk  to  the  city 
alone. 

Outside  the  gate,  a  girl  was  waiting  for  the  street  car. 
She  was  very  young ;  but  her  feet  slanted  at  a  sharp  angle 
on  her  high-heeled  shoes.    Her  skirt,  falling  scarcely  be- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  191 

low  her  knees,  showed  her  well-rounded  calves.  The 
finely  woven  stockings  revealed  the  whiteness  of  her 
flesh.  Prominent  against  the  salmon  colored  silk  sweat- 
er, was  a  necklace  of  large  imitation  amber  beads.  Her 
hair,  cut  short  just  below  the  ears,  fell  smoothly  from 
underneath  a  jaunty  velvet  tam  o'  shanter  of  graceful 
line.  The  air  of  profound  respect  with  which  she  spoke 
to  him  made  him  recognize  her.  It  was  the  gardener's 
daughter.  But  at  the  same  time  she  looked  at  him  in  a 
sly  way  with  ill-concealed  curiosity,  as  though  her  eyes 
made  a  distinction  between  the  master  and  the  man  whom 
women  adored  and  of  whom  she  had  heard  so  many 
things. 

The  Prince  went  on,  after  speaking  to  her  as  he  would 
have  to  a  young  lady  of  his  own  social  rank.  He  was 
gay  that  morning,  and  he  laughed  inwardly  as  he  thought 
how  later  on  that  little  bundle  of  mischief  and  ambition 
would  keep  men  busy.  Then  he  thought  of  Don  Marcos, 
and  what  Atilio  had  told  him.  Poor  Colonel!  Imagine 
a  person,  at  his  age,  trying  to  tame  a  young  wildcat! 

He  walked  lightly,  with  a  springy  step,  in  the  direction 
of  Monte  Carlo.  He  passed  the  villas  and  the  gardens  as 
though  contact  with  the  ground  had  given  his  step  fresh 
vigor,  and  as  though  the  Spring-like  air  had  abrogated 
to  some  extent  the  laws  of  gravity. 

When  he  reached  the  city  he  stopped  in  front  of  the 
steps  of  San  Carlos  Church.  Through  the  door  he  could 
see  the  twinkling  tapers,  smell  the  odor  of  flowers,  and 
hear  the  droning  of  the  organ,  and  the  voices  of  young 
girls  singing.  He  felt  like  a  boy  once  more,  buoyant  and 
fresh  as  the  morning,  and  had  an  impulse  to  follow  the 
various  families,  in  their  Sunday  best,  who  were  ascend- 
ing the  steps.  He  was  a  Catholic  through  his  father,  a 
member  of  the  Greek  church  through  his  mother,  and 
nothing  by  his  own  inclination.     Suddenly  he  felt  a  cer- 


192  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tain  repugnance  for  the  cave-like  darkness,  laden  with 
perfumes,  and  dotted  with  lights.  So  he  went  on,  breath- 
ing the  open  air  with  delight. 

"Oh,  your  Ladyship !    Good  morning !" 

A  long,  thin  female  hand  shook  his  with  masculine  vig- 
or. The  brass  buttons  of  her  khaki  colored  uniform, 
like  that  of  an  English  soldier,  were  gleaming  in  the  sun. 
The  uniform,  instead  of  being  completed  by  breeches, 
ended  in  a  short  skirt  and  tan  leather  leggings. 

It  was  Lewis's  niece.  She  had  spent  two  afternoons  at 
Villa  Sirena  rambling  about  the  gardens.  Once  more 
Michael  observed  her  unhealthy  emaciation,  which  was 
beginning  to  take  on  the  miserable  appearance  of  con- 
sumption. Her  Sam  Brown  belt  buried  itself  in  her 
blouse,  as  though  failing  to  meet  the  resistance  of  a  body 
underneath  the  cloth.  The  face  under  the  visor  of  the 
military  cap  was  as  sharp  as  a  knife.  Her  skin,  drawn 
and  lined  in  spite  of  her  youth,  showed  all  the  bones  and 
hollows.  It  was  impossible  to  judge  her  age :  she  might 
have  been  twenty-five,  or  she  might  have  been  sixty. 
Only  the  eyes  had  retained  their  freshness ;  eyes  that  still 
kept  the  guilelessness  of  adolescence,  and  looked  one 
squarely  in  the  face  with  the  serene  confidence  of  a  virgin 
sure  of  her  strength. 

She  had  gone  through  the  horrors  of  war,  as  through  a 
flame  that  dries  up  and  parches  everything  it  touches, 
and  in  the  end  converts  it  to  dust.  She  was  like  a 
mummy,  burned  by  the  fire  of  the  blazing  towns  that 
she  had  seen,  and  shaken  by  the  tears  and  moans  of  thou- 
sands of  human  beings.  "Think  what  those  ears  have 
heard!"  Michael  said  to  himself.  And  he  understood 
the  sad  expression  of  the  pale  mouth  which  hung  wear- 
ily between  two  drooping  furrows.  "And  think  what 
those  eyes  have  seen!"  he  continued  mentally.    But  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  193 

eyes  did  not  care  to  remember  and  smiled  at  him,  happy 
in  the  present  moment. 

She  had  just  come  out  of  a  large  hotel  converted  into 
a  hospital,  and  was  waiting  for  the  street  car  to  go  to 
Menton.  More  wounded  soldiers  had  arrived  there,  and 
owing  to  the  scarcity  of  nurses  the  doctors  had  been  ob- 
liged to  accept  her  services.  For  the  present  they  would 
not  bother  her  any  more  with  solicitude  about  her  health ! 
As  she  thought  of  the  hard  work  that  lay  before  her,  of 
the  long  night  watches,  and  the  fight  with  death  to  save 
so  many  lives,  she  was  filled  with  joy.  She  was  anxious, 
as  though  she  were  going  to  a  celebration  to  take  the 
short  trip  as  soon  as  possible,  and  seeing  the  car  coming, 
she  shook  hands  with  the  Prince  again,  with  a  firm  grip. 

"I  shall  go  on  abusing  your  permission.  Next  time  I 
shall  pillage  your  gardens  even  worse.  Flowers  .  .  . 
lots  of  flowers !  If  you  would  only  see  the  joy  they  give 
the  poor  fellows  when  you  put  them  beside  the  beds! 
Some  of  the  doctors  are  vexed ;  they  think  it  is  silly. 
But  all  I  say  is :  as  long  as  we  have  to  die,  why  not  die 
with  a  little  poetry,  with  something  around  us  to  remind 
us  of  the  beauty  we  are  losing.    It  doesn't  hurt  any  one." 

Lubimoflf  went  on  his  way,  but  his  heart  was  less  light. 
This  woman,  fighting  death  so  generously  and  so  man- 
fully, seemed  to  have  torn  away  the  rosy  veil  that  had 
made  his  eyes  rejoice. 

Everything  was  the  same,  but  of  a  darker  hue,  as 
though  he  were  looking  at  the  landscape  through  smoked 
glasses.  He  noticed  things  which  he  had  not  observed 
until  then.  The  large  hotels  had  been  converted  into  hos- 
pitals. Their  porches  and  large  balconies  were  filled  with 
men  basking  in  the  sun;  men  whose  heads  were  white 
balls,  bound  with  bandages  that  left  only  the  eyes  and 
mouth  visible;  half  finished  men,  as  it  were,  lacking  a 


194  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

leg  or  an  arm,  like  a  sculptor's  rough  models.  Others 
were  lying  motionless,  with  both  legs  amputated,  like 
corpses  in  a  dissecting  room,  but  still  breathing. 

On  the  sidewalks  he  met  soldiers  of  various  nations: 
French,  English,  Serbian,  officers,  and  a  few  Russians, 
who  reminded  him  of  the  former  importance  his  country 
had  had  in  the  war.  Every  variety  of  uniform  worn  by 
the  various  armies  of  the  French  Republic  passed  before 
his  eyes :  the  horizon  blue  of  the  home  troops,  the  mustard 
color  of  the  soldiers  from  Morocco,  the  yellow  fatigue 
caps  of  the  Foreign  Legion,  and  the  red  fez  of  the  Alger- 
ians and  the  negro  Sharpshooters. 

Each  one  was  maimed.  This  sunny  land,  with  its  love- 
ly views  of  sea  and  sky,  seemed  peopled  with  a  race  that 
had  survived  a  cataclysm.  Elegantly  dressed  officers, 
with  handsome  figures,  limped  along,  cautiously  dragging 
one  leg,  or  else  stepping  gingerly  on  a  foot  so  swathed 
in  bandages  that  it  was  several  times  its  natural  size. 
Some  of  them  were  leaning  on  canes,  bent  over  like  old 
men.  Men  of  athletic  proportions  trembled  as  they 
walked,  as  though  their  skeletons  were  rattling  about  in 
the  hollow  wrapper  of  their  bodies  wasted  by  consump- 
tion. Fingers  were  missing  on  hands ;  arms  had  been  cut 
off  until  the  shapeless  stumps  looked  like  fins.  Under 
their  pads  of  cotton,  cheeks  retained  the  gashes  made  by 
hand  grenades,  scars  like  those  left  by  cancer ;  the  horrible 
cavity  of  the  nose,  which  had  been  torn  away  in  some 
of  the  men,  was  hidden  by  a  black  tampon  attached  to 
the  ears.  The  faces  of  others  were  covered  by  masks  of 
bandages,  leaving  nothing  visible  save  the  eyes — sad  eyes 
that  seemed  to  look  with  fear  to  the  day  when  they  would 
liave  to  grow  accustomed  to  the  horror  of  a  face  that  a 
few  months  before  had  been  youthful  and  now  was  like 
a  vision  in  a  nightmare.  The  bodies  of  some  were  intact, 
retaining  their  former  strength  and  agility  in  all  their 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  195 

limbs.  Seen  from  behind  they  had  kept  all  the  vigor  and 
suppleness  of  youth.  But  they  walked  abreast,  holding 
tightly  to  one  another's  arms,  their  eyes  lost  in  dark- 
ness, tapping  the  pavement  with  a  stick  which  had  taken 
the  place  of  the  vanished  sword,  and  which  would  ac- 
company them  until  the  hour  of  their  death. 

And  this  procession  of  sadness  and  resignation,  this 
grievous  masquerade  comforted  by  the  joyousness  of  the 
morning,  and  feeling  love  of  life  once  more  renewed, 
was  coming  from  the  gardens.  Others  were  going  in  the 
direction  of  the  Casino  and  its  terraces,  passing  among  the 
Brazilian  palm  trees,  with  smooth,  hollow  trunks  covered 
with  elephant  hide;  among  the  cacti,  held  up  by  iron 
supports  like  a  tangle  of  green  reptiles  bristling  with 
thorns ;  among  the  prickly  pears  as  high  as  trees ;  among 
the  Himalayan  fig  trees,  with  towering  trunks  and  wide 
spreading  domes  of  branches  which  seemed  to  have  been 
made  to  shelter  the  motionless  meditation  of  the  fakirs ; 
among  all  the  trees  that  come  from  tropical  and  temper- 
ate America,  from  China,  Australia,  Abyssinia,  and  South 
Africa.  A  tiny  rivulet  descended  the  slope  in  zig-zags 
through  the  openings  in  the  green  lawn,  forming  back 
waters  among  the  bamboos  and  Japanese  palms,  until  it 
flowed  into  a  miniature  lake,  bordered  with  foliage,  as 
tranquil,  pleasing,  and  dainty  as  one  of  those  center- 
pieces in  which  the  water  is  represented  by  a  mirror. 

Michael  stopped  in  the  upper  gardens  to  look  at  the 
Casino  from  a  distance.  He  had  never  realized  before 
the  fussiness  and  bad  taste  of  the  architecture  of  this 
building,  which  was  the  heart  of  Monaco.  If  the  "gin- 
gerbread monument" — ^as  Castro  called  it — closed  its 
doors,  all  Monte  Carlo  would  be  wrapped  in  a  deathly 
stillness  like  the  loneliness  of  those  cities  which  in  form- 
er centuries  were  ports,  and  now  are  sleepy  and  deserted, 
far  from  the  sea,  which  has  withdrawn.    It  was  the  work 


196  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  the  architect  of  the  Paris  Opera  House,  an  ornate, 
gaudy,  childish  structure,  of  the  color  of  soft  butter,  with 
multi-colored  roofs,  balconied  turrets,  niches  with  name- 
less statues,  many  tile  friezes  and  gilded  mosaics.  At 
the  corners  there  were  green  porcelain  escutcheons,  imi- 
tating roughly  cut  emeralds.  The  outstanding  decorative 
motif  of  this  building,  famous  throughout  the  world,  was 
the  imitation  of  gold  and  precious  stones. 

Owing  to  the  prosperity  of  the  establishment,  they  had 
added  to  the  main  body  flanked  with  four  towers,  an  ex- 
tensive wing  in  which  the  best  gaming  rooms  were  lo- 
cated. Various  green  and  yellow  cupolas  of  different 
sizes  revealed  the  existence  of  the  latter,  rising  above 
the  upper  balustrade.  On  this  balustrade  a  number  of 
bronze  angels  or  genii,  entirely  nude  and  with  golden 
wings,  had  been  set  up.  With  black  extended  arms  they 
were  offering  golden  tributes,  the  significance  of  which 
no  one  had  been  able  to  guess.  Other  white  or  metal 
statues  of  half  nude  women  were  sheltered  in  the  niches 
in  the  walls,  and  the  names  and  significance  of  these  were 
likewise  a  mystery. 

Although  the  edifice  was  erected  with  the  pretense  of 
dazzling  and  charming  with  its  gold  and  soft  colors,  those 
who  went  there  paid  scarcely  any  attention  to  its  splen- 
dors. 

"The  ones  who  are  arriving,"  Castro  would  say,  "go  in 
on  the  run ;  they  want  to  get  placed  at  the  gaming  tables 
as  soon  as  possible.  The  ones  who  are  coming  out  take 
a  gloomy  view  of  everything ;  and  even  though  the  Casino 
were  as  beautiful  as  the  Parthenon,  they  would  take  it 
for  a  robber's  cave." 

The  Prince  looked  to  the  right  of  the  building,  where 
a  strip  of  blue  sea  was  visible,  with  the  hairy  trunks  and 
rounded  tops  of  a  few  Japanese  palms  standing  out 
against  the  blue.    There  at  the  entrance  to  the  terraces 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  197 

along  the  Mediterranean  rose  the  only  two  monuments 
of  the  city,  dedicated  to  the  fame  of  two  musicians  from 
the  simple  fact  that  some  of  their  works  had  been  played 
for  the  first  time  in  the  theater  of  the  Casino.  Carved  in 
marble,  Berlioz  and  Massenet  greeted  with  a  vague  stare 
in  their  sightless  eyes  the  cosmopolitan  crowd  that  came 
to  the  gambling  house,  "They  are  honorary  croupiers/' 
Castro  used  to  say. 

"Massenet — that  isn't  so  bad,"  thought  Michael,  "He 
was  fortunate,  he  had  money,  and  his  gifts  were  recog- 
nized during  his  lifetime.  But  imagine  Berlioz,  who  spent 
his  years  struggling  against  poverty  and  public  indiffer- 
ence, standing  guard  after  death  over  the  Casino's  mil- 
lions!" 

Next,  he  looked  at  the  foreground,  observmg  the  open 
Square  in  front  of  the  edifice.  There  was  a  round  gar- 
den in  the  center.  People  called  it  the  "cheese"  and  some 
even  particularized  and  called  it  the  "Camembert." 

Around  the  garden  rail  and  on  the  benches  backing  up 
to  it,  one  could  observe  the  living  soul  of  Monte  Carlo. 
Here  people  gathered,  to  exchange  jokes  and  gossip,  ask 
news  from  those  who  were  coming  out  of  the  Casino, 
and  comment  on  the  good  or  bad  fortune  of  the  most  cele- 
brated gamblers. 

In  the  immediate  neighborhood,  there  were  no  business 
houses  except  jewelry  stores,  branches  of  the  government 
pawn  shop,  and  millinery  shops.  Women  who  played 
small  stakes  felt  like  satisfying  their  longing  for  an  ex- 
pensive hat  on  coming  out  of  the  Casino.  Those  who 
needed  fresh  capital  to  carry  out  their  systems  had  only 
to  take  a  few  steps  to  pawn  their  valuables.  In  the  show 
windows  of  the  jewelry  shops,  pearl  necklaces  worth  a 
million  francs  and  emeralds  worth  three  hundred  thou- 
sand, were  exhibited  during  the  winter,  waiting  for  a 
buyer ;  and  in  summer  they  were  sent  to  the  fashionable 


198  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

bathing  resorts  to  continue  being  a  mute  and  dazzling 
temptation.  The  jewelers,  with  Semitic  profiles,  were 
waiting  behind  their  counters,  more  for  sellers  than  buy- 
ers, and  calmly  offered  a  fourth  of  the  price  for  a  gem 
bought  in  that  very  shop  the  year  before. 

From  a  distance  it  was  easy  for  the  Prince  to  guess  the 
character  of  the  many  people  who  at  that  early  hour 
were  sitting  on  the  benches  opposite  the  stairs  leading  up 
to  the  edifice.  Here  those  condemned  to  misery  by  gam- 
bling, and  accursed  by  fate,  remained  all  day,  suffering 
the  most  atrocious  torment  of  living  close  to  the  door  of 
the  sanctuary  without  being  able  to  enter.  They  had  lost 
their  last  cent,  and  the  directors  of  the  establishment,  who 
generously  send  ruined  gamblers  back  to  their  respective 
countries,  had  handed  over  the  viaticum  to  them  for  their 
return.  But  they  had  staked  the  money  given  to  aid  them 
and  had  lost ;  and  since  they  were  debtors  to  the  Casino 
they  could  not  reenter  it  until  they  had  fulfilled  their 
obligations.  So  there  they  remained,  stranded  in  the 
Square  for  all  time,  with  the  false  hope  of  getting  some 
money.  None  of  them  had  any  idea  of  how  or  from 
what  source.  They  mingled  together  there  in  the  com- 
panionship of  misery,  watching  for  fellow-countrymen 
who  were  better  off,  to  besiege  them  with  requests  for  a 
loan;  or  else  they  spent  their  time  discussing  numbers 
and  colors.  Perhaps  they  would  succeed  in  getting  to- 
gether a  few  francs  after  turning  all  their  pockets  inside 
out,  and  they  might  choose,  as  the  emissary  of  their  il- 
lusions, a  comrade  who  was  as  poor  as  they,  but  who 
had  not  "taken  the  viaiicum"  and  was  free  to  enter. 

Michael  saw  a  crowd  of  people  extending  as  far  as  the 
Japanese  palm  trees,  near  the  Massenet  monument.  They 
had  just  arrived  by  various  street  cars  from  Nice.  They 
were  all  hurrying,  anxious  to  enter  the  motley  edifice  as 
soon  as  possible,  as  though  fortune  were  expecting  them 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  199 

in  the  gaming  rooms  and  might  leave  at  any  moment, 
tired  of  waiting. 

He  looked  at  the  clock  above  the  fagade.  It  was  ten 
o'clock.  The  daily  occupations  were  being  resumed  and 
the  devotees  who  lived  in  Monte  Carlo  were  likewise 
flocking  there,  and  mingling  with  the  people  who  had 
come  from  other  places.  They  all  mounted  the  marble 
steps,  following  the  three  stair-carpets  held  in  place  by 
brass  rods  that  glistened  in  the  sun.  . 

"And  to  think  that  we're  at  war!"  Michael  thought. 
"And  many  of  those  who  have  gotten  up  early  to  make 
the  trip,  and  those  who  live  here,  too,  have  sons  or  broth- 
ers or  husbands,  who  at  the  present  moment  are  fighting, 
and  dying  perhaps !" 

Love  of  life,  love  of  pleasure,  and  the  vain  hope  of  win- 
ning, worked  like  an  anaesthetic,  causing  them  all  to  rise 
above  their  worries  and  forget,  so  that  they  were  able  to 
live  entirely  in  the  present  moment. 

This  general  rush  for  the  opening  of  the  gaming  hall 
disgusted  the  Prince  and  caused  him  to  halt  in  his  de- 
scent of  the  gentle  slope  of  the  gardens.  It  was  repugnant 
to  him  to  mix  with  the  crowd  that  was  loitering  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Casino. 

His  desire  to  retrace  his  steps  gave  him  an  idea.  "Sup- 
posing you  go  and  surprise  Alicia  at  her  home?  She 
would  be  so  pleased !" 

She  had  been  at  Villa  Sirena  twice  since  her  first  visit. 
A  chance  meeting  in  the  street  with  the  Prince,  when  she 
was  walking  along  with  her  friend  Clorinda,  had  served 
as  a  pretext  for  another  visit  to  the  refuge  in  their  beau- 
tiful gardens  of  "the  enemies  of  women."  He  found  the 
"General"  less  hostile  and  dominating  than  he  had  imag- 
ined; but  he  could  not  understand  Castro's  passion  for 
her.  In  spite  of  her  beauty  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  was 
talking  to  a  man.    They  had  been  accompanied  by  Va- 


200  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

leria,  a  young  French  girl,  who  had  been  a  protegee  of 
Alicia's,  a  traveling  companion  in  the  days  of  dazzling 
wealth,  and  who  now  accompanied  her  in  poverty,  out  of 
gratitude  and  fidelity.  Later  the  Duchess  de  Delille  had 
returned  alone  a  second  time  to  consult  him  about  various 
projects  for  her  future,  all  of  them  lacking  in  common 
sense ;  and  she  had  finally  accepted  a  loan  of  a  thousand 
francs.  Luck  was  against  her  in  gambling:  she  needed 
new  "tools  to  work  with."  The  capital  that  had  irritated 
her  so  by  never  varying,  never  going  much  above  thirty 
thousand,  had  finally  heard  her  complaints,  and  dwindled 
with  lightning  rapidity,  leaving  merely  a  few  remnants  of 
its  former  self. 

In  spite  of  the  Prince's  loan  the  Duchess  had  com- 
plained. 

"I'm  always  the  one  who  is  looking  you  up :  you  never 
deign  to  visit  my  house.    How  poor  I  really  am !" 

Remembering  her  humble  protest,  the  Prince  no  longer 
hesitated.  Turning  his  back  on  the  Casino,  he  began  to 
ascend  the  sloping  streets  in  the  direction  of  the  frontier 
line  separating  Monte  Carlo  from  Beausoleil ;  streets  that 
displayed  names  recalling  Spring:  the  Street  of  the 
Roses,  of  the  Carnations,  of  the  Violets,  of  the  Orchids. 

He  entered  a  short  avenue  formed  by  a  double  row  of 
garden  fences.  He  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  houses  be- 
tween the  columns  of  palm  trees,  and  the  firm  leaves  of 
the  large  magnolias.  As  he  went  along  he  read  the  names 
of  the  small  estates  carved  on  little  plaques  of  red  marble, 
placed  at  the  entrance  to  the  grounds.  "Villa  Rosa", 
here  it  was.  He  pushed  open  the  iron  gate,  which  was 
ajar,  without  hearing  the  sound  of  a  voice  or  the  barking 
of  a  dog  to  greet  his  presence.  He  saw  a  small  garden 
half  deserted,  overgrown  with  weeds  at  the  foot  of  the 
untrimmed  trees,  and  covering  the  space  that  had  for- 
merly been  occupied  by  flower  beds.    The  rest  was  more 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  201 

carefully  tended,  but  it  was  a  vegetable  garden  with 
rectangles  of  kitchen  stuffs  intensively  cultivated. 

Lubimoff  approached  without  meeting  anyone.  It  oc- 
curred to  him  that  the  gardener  must  have  been  the  man 
with  the  dog,  whom  he  had  met  as  he  turned  into  the 
street. 

Then  he  mounted  the  four  steps  at  the  entrance.  Here 
too  the  door  was  half  ajar,  and  upon  pushing  it  all  the 
way  open,  he  found  himself  in  a  hallway  with  stairs  lead- 
ing to  the  upper  story. 

There  was  no  one  in  sight.  He  tried  the  doors  of  the 
adjoining  rooms  and  found  them  locked.  There  was  not 
a  sound.  It  was  as  though  the  house  were  deserted.  But 
the  silence  was  suddenly  broken  by  a  voice  floating  down 
the  stairway.  It  was  a  faint  voice,  singing  a  slow,  sad 
English  air.  The  song  was  accompanied  by  a  sound  of 
dull  blows,  as  though  hands  were  beating  and  shaping  up 
some  large  unresisting  object. 

Michael  thought  he  recognized  Alicia's  voice.  He 
coughed  several  times  without  result ;  he  was  not  heard. 
He  was  about  to  call  to  let  her  know  that  he  was  there, 
but  refrained,  through  a  sudden  impulse  to  play  a  little 
joke  on  her.  Why  shouldn't  he  surprise  her  by  going 
up-stairs  the  one  part  of  the  house  where  she  was  now 
living,  he  thought?  His  hesitation  vanished.  Up-stairs 
he  would  go! 

From  the  first  landing  he  saw  several  doors,  but  only 
one  was  open ;  and  it  was  from  that  one  that  the  sounds 
of  the  song  and  the  thumping  were  coming.  A  woman 
bending  over  a  bed,  was  holding  out  her  arms  and  vigor- 
ously shaking  up  a  pillow.  Instinctively  she  felt  that 
some  one  was  standing  behind  her,  and  turning  around 
she  gave  an  exclamation  of  surprise  on  seeing  Michael 
in  the  doorway.  The  latter  was  no  less  surprised  to  rec- 
ognize the  woman  as  Alicia ;  an  Alicia  dressed  in  an  ele- 


202  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

gant  but  old  negligee,  with  crumpled  gloves  on  her  hands, 
and  a  veil  wrapped  around  her  hair. 

"You!  It's  you!"  she  exclaimed.  "How  you  fright- 
ened me!" 

Immediately  she  recovered  her  composure,  and  smiled 
at  the  Prince,  as  the  latter  tried  to  excuse  himself.  He 
had  not  met  any  one;  the  gate  and  the  door  had  been 
open.  She,  in  turn,  now  excused  herself.  It  was  Sun- 
day; Valeria,  her  companion,  had  gone  to  Nice  to  take 
lunch  with  a  family  she  knew;  her  maid  and  the  gard- 
ener's wife  were  at  mass;  the  old  man  had  gone  out  a 
moment  before  to  see  some  friends. 

After  these  mutual  explanations  they  both  remained 
silent,  looking  at  each  other  hesitatingly,  not  knowing 
what  to  say,  but  still  smiling. 

"You  making  your  bed!"  he  remarked,  just  to  say 
something. 

"So  you  see.  This  is  rather  different  from  my  bed- 
room in  Paris.  It  is  hardly  the  'study'  that  I  took  you 
to  either.    Times  have  changed!" 

Michael  gravely  nodded  assent.  Yes,  times  had 
changed. 

"At  any  rate,"  she  continued,  "you  must  confess  that 
there  is  a  certain  novelty  in  seeing  the  Duchess  de  Delille, 
madcap  Alicia,  making  her  bed." 

The  Prince  nodded  again.  Indeed  it  was  a  novelty: 
something  one  could  not  see  every  day. 

Alicia  persisted  in  her  explanations.  It  had  not  been 
at  all  hard  for  her  to  do  housework.  She  cleaned  her 
room  herself,  in  order  to  save  her  elderly  maid  the  extra 
bother.  She  did  not  want  Valeria  to  help  her.  They 
were  each  keeping  their  own  rooms  in  order,  now  that 
help  was  scarce.  Besides,  she  herself  sometimes  went 
into  the  kitchen,  and  she  would  have  liked  to  help  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  203 

gardener  cultivate  the  little  garden,  just  for  her  own 
pleasure. 

"We  are  living  in  war  times ;  things  are  getting  dearer 
every  day,  and  as  for  me,  I'm  poor.  We  ought  to  return 
to  the  simple  primitive  life.  But  I  don't  dare  work  in 
the  garden,  on  account  of  the  neighbors.  They  watch 
you  all  the  time  from  their  windows.  There  is  a  Brazilian 
gentleman,  even,  who  seems  to  have  fallen  in  love  with 
me. 

She  herself  was  proud  of  her  industriousness.  Who 
would  ever  have  guessed  such  qualities  some  years  before 
in  the  mistress  of  the  luxurious  residence  on  the  Avenue 
du  Bois,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  getting  up  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon? 

"I  owe  it  all  to  mamma.  She  had  me  educated  in  a 
girls'  school  in  England,  when  it  was  the  fashion  to  sub- 
stitute domestic  work  for  the  physical  exercise  of  sports. 
I  think  it's  called  'Corinthianism.'  And  I  feel  better  than 
ever.  In  the  old  days  I  had  to  get  up  several  mornings 
a  week  with  Valeria  and  Clorinda  and  go  to  a  tennis  club 
and  play  until  I  was  exhausted.  Now,  after  taking  care 
of  my  room  and  helping  with  the  others  I  don't  need  any 
exercise.    I'm  doing  poor  man's  gymnastics." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Michael  looked  at  the  room ; 
a  woman's  bedroom,  still  in  disarray,  with  clothes  lying 
on  the  arm  chairs,  giving  out  the  perfume  of  a  fastidious 
femininity.  Through  a  narrow  door  he  saw  a  comer  of 
the  adjoining  bath  room,  where  a  wet  spot  had  been  left 
on  the  mosaic  floor,  from  the  morning  bath.  An  odor  of 
cau  de  cologne  and  tooth  paste  hung  in  the  air.  From 
several  toilet  jars,  in  disorder,  vague  scents  of  more 
precious  essences  were  escaping.  Mingling  with  the  toilet 
articles  and  objects  of  intimate  apparel,  he  could  distin- 
guish cards  such  as  are  given  out  to  the  patrons  of  the 
Casino,  to  mark  their  plays ;  some  with  red  or  blue  marks 


204  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

in  the  columns,  others  pricked  with  a  hat  pin,  for  lack  of 
a  pencil.  He  observed  larger  cards,  with  a  roulette  wheel 
indicating  the  numbers  and  colors ;  and  also  many  books 
of  the  sort  sold  by  the  stationers  and  at  newspaper 
stands;  illuminating  treatises  on  "How  to  win  without 
fail  in  all  kinds  of  play."  On  the  mantelpiece,  half  hid- 
den by  various  fashion  magazines,  was  a  small  roulette 
wheel,  a  real  one,  used  undoubtedly  in  studying  out  and 
trying  various  theories.  On  the  lamp  stand  beside  the  bed 
the  latest  copy  of  the  Monte  Carlo  Review  was  lying 
open,  with  statistics  of  all  the  winning  numbers  during 
the  past  week  at  the  various  tables;  interesting  reading, 
with  mysterious  annotations  which  had  kept  Alicia  up 
perhaps  till  dawn. 

In  the  meantime  she  was  dexterously  causing  to  disap- 
pear everything  which  she  considered  prejudicial  to  her 
appearance  since  the  surprise.  When  Michael  looked  at 
her  again  the  old  gloves  had  vanished  from  her  hands 
and  the  veil  was  hidden  somewhere.  Her  hair,  now  left 
free,  was  black  and  lustrous,  a  trifle  coarse,  perhaps,  but 
it  rose  luxuriantly  in  large  ringlets  in  disarray. 

They  prolonged  the  silence  with  an  embarrassed  smile, 
as  though  neither  of  them  could  find  a  way  of  relieving 
the  situation. 

"Go  on  with  your  work,"  Michael  said,  somewhat 
timidly.    "Now  I'm  here,  I  don't  want  to  be  in  the  way." 

As  though  seeing  a  challenge  to  her  embarrassment  in 
these  words,  and  anxious  at  the  same  time  to  show  her 
skill  fulness,  she  bent  over  the  bed  to  continue  her  work. 
Michael  regained  his  high  spirits  at  this  display  of  con- 
fidence. It  wasn't  chivalrous  to  allow  her  to  work  alone : 
he  must  help  her. 

"You!  You!"  exclaimed  Alicia,  laughing,  as  though 
such  a  proposition  seemed  to  her  unthinkable. 

The  Prince  pretended  to  feel  hurt.    Yes :  he !    Wasn't 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  205 

he  a  sailor,  and  hadn't  his  adventurous  life  compelled  him 
to  know  how  to  do  a  little  of  everything?  More  than 
once  in  his  explorations  in  the  wilds,  he  had  had  to  make 
a  bed  as  best  he  could,  wrapped  in  blankets  beside  the 
embers  of  a  fire. 

He  had  gone  over  to  the  other  side  of  the  bed,  and  was 
imitating  all  the  movements  of  the  Duchess  with  comic 
exaggeration.  He  petted  the  pillows  after  her,  with  such 
violence  as  to  make  the  bed  resound.  While  she  lifted 
it  slightly  toward  her  to  shake  it  better,  he  lifted  it  com- 
pletely with  his  strong  hands. 

"You  don't  know  how !  You  don't  know  how !"  Alicia 
exclaimed  with  childish  glee. 

Then,  seeing  his  fingers  seize  the  linen  with  a  powerful 
grip,  she  added : 

"Good  heavens,  let  go  of  that :  You'll  tear  the  pillow, 
and  just  now,  in  these  hard  times !" 

They  both  laughed,  finding  this  work  very  amusing. 

"Take  hold !"  she  said  in  authoritative  tones,  and  flung 
in  his  face  a  sheet  that  she  was  holding  at  the  opposite 
side. 

Michael  found  himself  wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  filmy 
linen  fragrant  with  feminine  perfumes.  It  was  for  an 
instant  only,  but  to  him  it  seemed  like  something  extra- 
ordinary, of  limitless  duration,  extending  beyond  the 
bounds  of  time  and  space.  He  had  a  presentiment  that 
this  insignificant  event  was  going  to  be  a  turning  point 
in  his  life.  He  felt  his  former  self  suddenly  awaken  with 
fresh  vigor.  Perhaps  it  was  the  stimulation  due  to  con- 
tinence. He  thought  of  Castro's  ironic  smile,  and  of  him- 
self, living  like  a  hermit  there  in  Villa  Sirena,  and  preach- 
ing hostility  to  women !  There  was  a  buzzing  in  his  ears  ; 
his  eyes,  momentarily  blinded,  seemed  to  be  gazing  on  a 
vast  expanse  of  rosy  sky,  the  pale,  luscious  rose  color  of 
a  woman's  flesh.    There  was  something  intoxicating  in 


2o6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  sudden  breath  that  caused  his  brain  to  reel,  commu- 
nicating the  sensation  to  his  whole  organism,  as  violently 
as  though  struck  with  a  lash.  When  the  sheet  had  fal- 
len back  on  the  bed,  Michael  was  deathly  pale,  with  a  look 
of  intenseness  gleaming  in  his  eyes.  She  thought  he  was 
angry  at  the  jest,  and  she  laughed  mischievously,  leaning 
on  the  pillow  with  her  hands.  As  she  shook  with 
laughter,  the  lace  of  her  low-necked  negligee  trembled 
seductively  on  her  breast  and  shoulders. 

Suddenly  the  Prince  found  himself  on  the  other  side 
of  the  bed  close  to  Alicia.  Finally  they  both  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  bed,  turning  their  backs  on  the  forgotten 
sheet.  He  took  one  of  her  hands  without  realizing  what 
he  was  doing.  Then  he  bent  so  close  to  her  face  that  one 
of  her  Medusa-like  tresses  brushed  against  his  temple. 
He  felt  no  desire  to  talk,  but  seeing  her  eyes,  so  close  to 
his,  he  broke  the  pleasant  silence. 

"You  have  been  weeping !" 

The  woman  protested  with  a  strained  smile  and  grew 
pale  as  she  stammered  her  excuses.  No ;  perhaps  it  was 
the  dust  shaken  up  by  the  cleaning,  or  the  effort  of  work- 
ing. But  he  went  on  studying  her  eyes  which  were  in- 
deed slightly  reddened. 

"You  were  crying  when  I  came  in,"  he  continued,  with 
insistent  and  troubled  curiosity. 

Now  Alicia's  protest  took  the  form  of  a  harsh,  shrill 
laugh,  that  was  decidedly  forced  and  unnatural.  And  by 
one  of  those  modulations  of  which  only  great  actors  know 
the  secret,  the  burst  of  her  laughter  died  gradually  into 
a  sigh,  then  a  groan,  until,  letting  go  the  Prince's  hand, 
she  covered  her  eyes,  and  hung  her  head,  while  a  fit  of 
sobbing  shook  her  whole  body. 

She  was  crying.  It  was  enough  that  Michael  should 
have  discovered  her  recent  weeping  to  cause  the  tears 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  207 

to  rise  in  her  eyes  again,  renewing  her  former  anguish. 
She  gave  in  to  her  grief  with  a  sort  of  cruel  delight,  find- 
ing it  preferable  to  the  torture  of  feigning,  which  his  un- 
expected visit  had  imposed. 

The  Prince  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments. 

"Is  it  for  that  young  fellow  of  yours?"  he  plucked  up 
courage  to  ask,  with  a  shaking  voice  as  though  he  too 
were  undergoing  an  unexplainable  emotion. 

She  replied  with  a  slight  movement  of  her  head,  with- 
out taking  her  hands  from  her  eyes.  It  was  unnecessary 
for  Michael  to  see  them.  He  had  guessed  the  truth  on 
discovering  the  traces  of  tears.  It  could  be  only  for  him 
that  she  was  weeping:  the  lack  of  news;  the  worry  of 
thinking  that  he  was  a  prisoner,  far  off,  suffering  all  sorts 
of  privations ;  and  that  perhaps  she  would  never  see  him 
again. 

"How  you  love  him !" 

The  Prince  was  surprised  himself  at  the  tone  of  voice 
in  which  he  said  these  words.  There  was  a  note  of  de- 
spair, envy,  and  sadness  at  the  thought  of  the  passing 
years,  bequeathing  to  the  coming  generation  the  haughty 
privileges  of  youth. 

The  guests  at  Villa  Sirena  would  also  have  been  aston- 
ished to  hear  him  talk  in  this  fashion,  Alicia's  surprise 
caused  her  to  forget  all  precaution  as  a  pretty  woman, 
and  lift  her  head,  as  she  took  away  her  hands.  Her  face 
was  red,  her  eyes  tremulous  and  overflowing.  A  tear 
hung  from  a  lock  of  hair.  She  realized  that  she  must  be 
looking  terrible,  but  what  did  she  care? 

"Yes,  I  love  him;  I  love  him  more  than  anything  in 
the  world.  It  is  on  his  account  that  I  go  on  living.  If  it 
weren't  for  him  I  would  kill  myself.  But  he  isn't  what 
you  think.    No,  he  isn't." 

With  her  face  so  reddened  with  weeping,  it  was  im- 
possible to  detect  a  blush ;  but  her  gestures,  the  expression 


2o8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  her  face  and  the  tone  of  her  voice,  rebelled  with 
shame  and  indignation  against  the  suspicion  of  the  Prince. 

She  went  on  talking  in  a  low  voice,  without  daring  to 
look  at  him,  hurrying  her  words  like  a  penitent  anxious  to 
get  through  with  a  difficult  confession  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. On  various  occasions  in  talking  with  the  Prince, 
the  truth  had  come  to  her  lips,  and  at  the  last  moment 
the  reticence  of  a  woman  still  desirous  of  pleasing 
through  her  beauty  had  caused  her  to  conceal  the  facts. 
But  to  whom  could  she  reveal  her  secret  better  than  to 
Michael  ?  She  considered  him  one  of  the  family :  he  had 
received  her  in  friendly  fashion  in  her  hour  of  need, 
when  so  many  men  had  turned  their  backs  on  her.  Be- 
sides, between  a  man  and  a  woman,  love  is  not  the  only 
feeling  that  can  exist,  as  she  had  thought  in  the  days  of 
her  mad  youth.  There  were  other  less  violent  things, 
more  placid  and  lasting:  friendship,  comradeship,  and 
brotherly  affection. 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  as  though  to  gather  strength. 

"He  is  my  son." 

Michael,  who  was  expecting  some  extraordinary,  some 
monstrous  revelation,  worthy  of  her  mad  past,  was  un- 
able to  restrain  an  exclamation  of  astonishment : 

"Your  son !" 

She  nodded :  "Yes,  my  son."  With  lowered  eyes,  she 
went  on  talking  in  the  same  nervous  tone,  as  though  she 
vere  making  a  confession.  She  went  back  over  her  past. 
How  surprised  she  had  been,  how  angry,  at  the  cruel 
trick  love  had  played  in  cutting  off  the  best  years  of  her 
life!  Her  indignation  was  like  that  of  the  citizens  of 
Ancient  Greece  who  began  a  riot  when  they  learned  of 
the  pregnancy  of  a  courtezan  who  was  considered  a  na- 
tional glory,  a  beauty  whom  the  multitude  came  from  afar 
to  see,  when  she  showed  herself  nude  in  the  religious  fes- 
tivals.   They  were  bent  on  killing  her  unborn  child,  as 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  209 

though  it  had  been  guilty  of  a  sacrilege.  Alicia,  too,  used 
to  consider  herself  a  living  work  of  art,  and  wanted  to 
punish  the  sacrilege  of  her  child  with  death.  What  crim- 
inal attempts  she  had  made  to  rid  herself  of  the  shame 
that  was  throbbing  in  her  vitals !  Besides,  what  tortures 
she  had  undergone  in  her  efforts  to  hide  it,  to  go  on 
leading  her  life  of  pleasure  as  before,  and  suffer  anything 
rather  than  permit  her  secret  to  escape !  Returning  from 
parties  where  she  had  seen  herself  admired  as  formerly 
yet  always  with  the  dread  that  her  secret  had  been  dis- 
covered, she  would  fall  into  fits  of  homicidal  rage  and 
rebelliouslly  curse  the  being  that  persisted  in  living 
within  her;  and  in  paroxysms  of  wild  hysteria  she  would 
devise  ways  and  means  of  encompassing  its  destruction. 

There  were  tears  in  her  voice  as  she  recalled  these 
scenes. 

"But  how  about  your  husband?"  Michael  asked. 

"We  separated  at  that  time.  He  could  tolerate  my  love 
affairs  in  silence:  he  could  pretend  not  to  know  about 
them  .    .    .  but  a  child  that  wasn't  his  own.  .    .    .  !" 

She  recalled  the  attitude  of  the  Duke  de  Delille.  He 
had  shown  a  dignity  worthy  of  him.  There  had  been 
many  deceived  husbands  in  his  family:  it  had  almost 
become  a  tradition  of  nobility,  an  historic  distinction.  He 
did  not  feel  dishonored  by  selling  his  name  in  getting 
married  in  order  to  increase  the  pleasures  and  comforts 
of  his  life.  His  name  that  belonged  to  him  was  a  tool 
to  work  with.  But  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  let  that 
name  get  out  of  his  family,  to  give  it  to  an  intruder  to 
continue  the  line.  His  forefathers  had  had  many  ille- 
gitimate children;  but  it  had  never  occurred  to  any  of 
his  gay  women  ancestors  to  introduce  into  the  family 
descendants  in  whose  creation  their  husbands  could  as- 
sume no  responsibility  whatever. 

The  Duke  had  separated  from  her,  granting  all  her  de- 


2IO  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

mands  save  that  one.  It  was  an  adulterous  son  and  it 
must  disappear.  And  no  one,  except  they  two  and  the 
maid — who  was  still  with  her — were  to  know  of  the  birth. 
"There  were  times  when  I  was  quite  happy,"  Alicia 
continued.  "I  learned  to  know  new  unsuspected  joys.  I 
would  suddenly  leave  Paris :  lots  of  people  thought  I  was 
traveling  with  some  new  lover.  No;  I  was  going  to  see 
my  little  boy,  my  George;  first  in  London,  later  in  New 
York,  but  always  in  a  large  city.  I  could  live  with  him, 
and  play  at  being  a  mother,  with  a  living  doll  that  kept 
getting  bigger  and  bigger  .  .  .  bigger !  Do  you  remem- 
ber the  night  I  invited  you  to  dinner?  I  had  just  come 
back  from  one  of  those  trips,  and  in  spite  of  that,  just 
think  of  the  foolish  things  I  said.  I  imagined  myself 
Venus,  or  Helen,  passing  before  the  old  men  on  the  wall. 
And  in  order  to  give  myself  up  completely  to  a  paroxysm 
of  maternal  pride  I  was  thinking  of  my  heroines,  who 
were  also  my  rivals.  Helen  had  had  children,  and  men 
went  on  killing  one  another  for  her.  Venus  had  not  es- 
caped maternity,  and  gods  and  mortals  continued  to  adore 
her  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  had  a  son  fluttering  about 
the  world.  Maternity  meant  neither  abdication  of  rights 
nor  loss  of  prestige ;  she  could  go  on  being  beautiful  and 
being  desired,  like  other  women,  after  an  incident  that 
had  seemed  to  her  irremediable.  So  I  went  on  living  my 
life.  Oh,  when  I  think  of  how  I  sometimes  shortened 
the  time  that  I  had  intended  to  stay  with  him,  in  order 
to  follow  some  man  that  scarcely  interested  me!  Now 
that  I  haven't  him,  I  think  of  the  hours  that  I  might  have 
lived  by  his  side,  and  that  were  g^ven  up  to  the  first  male 
that  aroused  my  curiosity!  It's  my  most  terrible  re- 
morse; it  gnaws  at  my  conscience  all  night  long,  and 
drives  me  to  gambling  as  the  only  remedy.  I  am  certainly 
to  be  pitied,  Michael." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  211 

But  a  fixed  idea  seemed  to  dominate  Michael  as  he  list- 
ened to  her. 

"And  the  father?    Who  is  the  father?" 

The  tone  of  his  voice  was  practically  the  same  as  be- 
fore :  a  tone  of  hostile  curiosity,  of  aggressive  spite. 

Another  wave  of  astonishment  swept  over  him  when 
he  saw  that  she  was  shrugging  her  shoulders. 

"I  don't  know;  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  to  me. 
Other  women,  in  like  circumstances,  fasten  the  paternity 
on  the  man  they  are  most  interested  in.  As  though  you 
could  tell!  I  haven't  picked  out  any  one  in  particular 
from  among  my  memories.  They  are  all  the  same.  I  have 
forgotten  them  all.    My  son  is  mine,  mine  only." 

She  had  the  majestic  indifference  of  the  serene  and 
fertile  forest  that  opens  its  blossoms  to  the  pollen  scat- 
tered through  the  air  like  a  golden  rain  of  love.  The  new 
plant  springs  up.  It  belongs  to  the  forest,  and  the  forest 
keeps  it,  without  showing  any  interest  in  learning  the 
name  and  origin  of  the  wandering  source  of  life  borne 
hither  willy-nilly  on  the  wind. 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

"One  day,  on  arriving  in  New  York,"  she  continued, 
"I  made  a  terrible  discovery.  I  found  my  George  almost 
as  tall  as  I  was,  and  strong  looking,  with  the  serious  air 
of  a  grown  man,  though  he  wasn't  quite  eleven.  I'm 
ashamed  to  think  it ;  but  I  mustn't  lie :  I  hated  him.  Venus 
might  have  a  son,  as  long  as  the  son  remained  eternally 
a  little  child  through  all  the  centuries,  like  one  of  those 
amusing  babies  that  are  dressed  in  a  whimsical  fashion, 
and  are  the  mother's  pride  and  amusement.  But  my  own 
son,  with  his  powerful  body,  his  strong  hands,  and  sol- 
emn face!  It  meant  that  I  should  grow  old  before  my 
time ;  I  should  have  to  renounce  my  youth  if  I  kept  him 
by  my  sidel    I  could  never  resign  myself  to  declaring 


212  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

that  I  was  his  mother.  And  I  fled  from  him,  letting  a 
number  of  years  go  by,  without  paying  attention  to  any- 
thing in  regard  to  him,  excepting  to  send  the  means  for 
his  complete  education.  Oh,  when  I  think  how  fate  has 
punished  me  for  my  selfishness!" 

She  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments  to  dry  the  fresh 
tears  that  were  reddening  her  eyes  and  giving  her  voice 
a  husky  resonance. 

"He  came  to  Paris  when  I  was  least  expecting  him. 
The  venerable  friend  who  was  looking  after  his  educa- 
tion there  in  America,  had  died.  I  found  a  man,  a  grown 
man,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  wasn't  over  sixteen.  My 
first  feeling  was  one  of  annoyance,  almost  anger.  I 
should  have  to  say  farewell  to  youth,  and  change  my 
mode  of  life  on  account  of  this  intruder.  But  there  was 
something  in  me  that  kept  me  from  doing  anything  so 
heartless  as  to  send  him  back  to  a  foreign  country,  or  off 
to  a  boarding  school  in  Paris.  I  grew  accustomed  to  him 
at  once.  I  had  to  have  him  in  my  house.  It  seemed  as 
though,  when  I  was  near  him,  I  felt  a  certain  serenity,  a 
deep  quiet  joy  that  I  never  thought  myself  capable  of 
feeling.  You  don't  know  what  it  means,  Michael.  You 
could  never  understand,  no  matter  how  much  I  tried  to 
explain  it  to  you.  I  swear  it  was  the  happiest  time  in  my 
life.  There  is  no  love  like  that.  Besides,  we  were  such 
good  comrades!  I  suddenly  felt  as  thought  I  were  a 
girl  of  his  age  again ;  no,  younger  than  he,  George  used 
to  give  me  advice.  He  was  so  wise  for  a  boy  of  his  age ; 
and  I  used  to  do  what  he  said  like  a  younger  sister.  He 
let  his  mother  drag  him  along  and  introduce  him  to  a 
world  of  pleasure  and  luxury  that  dazzled  him,  after  his 
sober,  athletic  life  with  a  stern  educator.  And  I  leaned 
proudly  on  his  arm,  and  laughed  at  the  false  ideas  people 
had  of  our  actual  relation.  How  we  used  to  dance,  the 
year  before  the  war,  without  any  one  suspecting  the  true 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  213 

nature  of  the  affection  that  bound  me  to  my  partner!" 
Alicia  paused  to  linger  on  these  delightful  memories. 
She  smiled  with  a  far-away  look  in  her  eyes,  as  she 
thought  of  the  malicious  error  people  had  made. 

"Every  tango-tea  in  the  Champs-Elysees  found  the 
Duchess  de  Delille  dancing  with  her  latest  crush !  And, 
Michael,  as  for  me,  I  was  proud  that  they  should  be 
making  such  a  mistake.  I  went  on  being  the  beautiful 
Alicia,  restored  to  youth  by  the  fidelity  of  an  adolescent 
who  accompanied  her  everywhere,  with  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  first  love.  This  seemed  to  me  a  much  better  role 
than  that  of  the  passively  resigned  mother.  Besides, 
what  fun  we  used  to  have  laughing  and  talking  it  over 
afterwards  when  we  were  by  ourselves!  Many  of  my 
former  lovers  felt  their  old  passion  revive  again  out  of  a 
sort  of  unconscious  envy — the  instinctive  rivalry  that  the 
man  of  ripe  years  feels  toward  youth — and  they  began 
besieging  me  with  their  gallantries  again.  George  used 
to  threaten  me  in  fun:  'Mamma,  I'm  jealous !'  He  didn't 
want  any  other  man  to  be  showing  attentions  to  his  moth- 
er, so  that  she  might  belong  to  him  completely.  On  other 
occasions  I  myself  had  better  reasons  to  protest.  I  sur- 
prised a  greedy  look  in  the  eyes  of  many  women  of  my 
own  class  when  they  gazed  at  him — some  with  a  boldly 
inviting  look,  since,  being  younger,  they  felt  they  had  a 
right  to  take  him  away  from  me.  And  he  was  so  good ! 
He  used  to  joke  with  me  about  these  passions  that  he 
inspired;  and  tell  me  about  others  that  I  had  not  been 
able  to  guess !  You  don't  know  what  young  people  are 
like  nowadays,  in  the  generation  that  has  followed  us. 
They  seem  to  be  made  of  different  flesh  and  blood.  Our 
generation  was  the  last  to  take  love  seriously ;  to  give  tre- 
mendous importance  to  it,  and  make  it  the  chief  occupa- 
,  tion  of  our  lives.  Now  they  don't  understand  people  like 
you  and  me :  we  seem  monstrous  to  them.    My  son  is  only 


214  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

interested  in  one  woman :  his  mother ;  and  in  addition  to 
her,  automobiles,  aeroplanes,  and  sports.  All  these 
strong,  innocent  boys  seemed  to  have  guessed  what  was 
awaiting  them.   ..." 

As  she  spoke,  the  momentary  serenity  with  which  she 
had  related  this  happy  period  in  her  life  gradually  van- 
ished. She  went  on  talking  in  a  subdued  voice,  choked 
from  time  to  time  by  sobs. 

Suddenly  war  had  come.  Who  could  have  imagined  it 
a  month  before?  And  her  son  was  ashamed  not  to  be 
one  of  the  men  who  were  hurrying  to  the  railroad  sta- 
tions to  join  a  regiment.  One  morning  he  had  over- 
whelmed her  with  the  announcement  of  his  enlistment 
as  a  volunteer.  What  could  she  do  ?  Legally  she  was  not 
his  mother.  George  bore  the  name  of  a  pair  of  old  mar- 
ried servants  who  had  been  willing  to  play  that  game  of 
deception  by  posing  as  his  parents.  Besides,  he  was 
born  in  France,  and  it  was  not  extraordinary  that  he,  like 
so  many  other  youths,  should  have  wanted  to  defend  his 
country  before  he  was  called  to  arms  by  law. 

The  Duchess  lived  for  a  few  months  in  a  tiny  village 
in  the  south  of  France,  near  the  Aviation  Camp  where  her 
son  was  in  training.  She  wanted  to  be  with  him  just  as 
long  as  she  possibly  could.  If  only  he  had  become  a  sol- 
dier at  the  time  when  she  was  living  separated  from  him, 
and  was  concealing  her  actual  relation  to  him!  But  she 
was  going  to  lose  him  at  the  sweetest  moment  of  her  life, 
when  she  was  beginning  to  think  she  might  be  at  George's 
side  forever. 

"It  did  not  take  him  long  to  become  a  pilot.  How  I 
hated  the  ease  with  which  he  learned  to  manage  his  ma- 
chine !  His  progress  filled  me  with  pride  and  anger. 
Those  young  fellows  are  regular  fanatics  so  far  as  avia- 
tion is  concerned.  It  is  something  that  has  come  into 
existence  in  their  time,  and  they  have  seen  it  grow  before 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  215 

their  school-boy  eyes.  He  went  away,  and  since  then  I 
have  been  more  dead  than  alive.  Three  years,  Michael, 
three  years  of  torture !  I've  paid  dearly  for  all  my  past 
life !  Though  the  mistakes  that  I  made  were  great,  I've 
made  up  for  them,  and  more  too.  You  may  well  have 
compassion  on  me.  You  can  have  no  idea  what  I'm  suf- 
fering," 

The  first  year  that  Alicia  had  spent  alone,  she  had 
lived  in  constant  expectation  of  his  letters,  which  arrived 
irregularly  from  the  front.  Her  joys  were  few  and  far 
between.  George  had  come  to  Paris  only  once  on  leave, 
and  had  spent  half  a  week  with  her.  At  long  intervals 
she  also  received  visits  from  the  aviator's  comrades, 
greeting  the  news  they  brought  with  tears  and  smiles. 
Her  son  had  received  the  War  Cross  after  an  air  battle. 
His  mother  had  cut  out  the  short  newspaper  paragraph 
referring  to  this  event,  sticking  it  with  two  pins  on  the 
silk  with  which  her  bedroom  was  hung.  She  would  spend 
hours  staring  as  though  hypnotized  at  these  brief  lines: 
"Bachellery,  Georges,  aviator,  gave  chase  to  two  enemy 
planes  beyond  our  lines  and  ..." 

This  "Bachellery,  Georges"  was  her  son !  It  made  no 
difference  to  her  that  other  people  were  not  aware  of  the 
fact.  Her  pride  seemed  to  grow  because  of  the  mystery 
surrounding  it.  The  handsome  strapping  fellow,  strong, 
and  innocent  as  the  heroes  of  ancient  legend,  had  been 
formed  in  her  body.  All  the  men  whom  she  had  known 
in  her  past  life  seemed  more  and  more  petty  and  ugly; 
they  were  inferior  beings,  sprung  from  another  race  of 
humanity,  the  existence  of  which  should  be  forgotten. 

Suddenly  a  stupid,  unforeseen  accident  plunged  her 
into  the  darkness  of  despair.  One  beautiful  morning  with 
the  joyous  confidence  of  a  young  knight  setting  forth  in 
quest  of  adventure,  the  aviator  started  out  in  his  pursuit 
machine,  rising  through  the  silvery  clouds  in  search  of  the 


2i6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

enemy.  Suddenly,  he  noticed  some  slight  motor  trouble- 
due  to  the  negligence  of  the  mechanics  in  getting  it  ready, 
a  matter  of  slight  importance  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances .  .  .  and  he  was  forced  to  descend,  absolutely 
unable  to  continue  his  flight,  and  the  wind  and  bad  luck 
caused  him  to  land  within  the  German  lines. 

"A  hundred  yards  this  side,  and  he  would  have  landed 
among  his  own  men  .  .  .  What  can  you  expect?  I 
was  too  happy.  I  had  still  to  learn  what  misery  really 
means !  I  confess  that  at  the  very  first  I  was  almost  glad, 
with  the  selfish  gladness  of  a  mother.  A  prisoner!  It 
meant  that  his  life  would  be  safe ;  he  wouldn't  be  killed 
in  an  air  battle;  he  was  no  longer  in  danger  of  being 
crushed  to  pieces  or  burned  to  death  under  his  broken 
machine.     But  later  on !  .    .    . " 

Later  this  security,  that  placed  her  son  outside  the  limit 
of  actual  war,  became  a  source  of  torture.  She  envied 
herself  the  times  when  he  used  to  go  out  each  day  and 
face  death,  but  still  remained  free.  The  newspapers 
talked  about  the  suffering  of  the  prisoners,  their  being 
herded  together  in  vast  unsanitary  sheds,  and  the  hunger 
from  which  they  were  suffering.  The  life  of  ease  and 
comfort  which  the  mother  was  leading  was  a  constant 
source  of  remorse.  When  she  sat  down  at  table,  or 
looked  at  her  soft  bed,  or  noticed  the  warm  caress  of  a 
fire,  and  saw  that  the  window  panes  were  covered  with 
the  traceries  of  frost,  she  felt  she  was  usurping  in  a 
shameless  manner  something  that  belonged  to  another 
person.  Her  boy,  her  poor  boy,  was  living  like  a  stray 
dog,  lying  on  the  straw,  with  hunger  gnawing  at  his  stom- 
ach !  She  had  produced  a  human  being — she,  a  miser- 
able woman,  who  for  so  many  years  had  believed  herself 
the  center  of  the  universe,  was  enjoying  all  kinds  of  lux- 
uries— and  this  flesh  of  her  flesh  was  agonizing  under  the 
tortures  of  want  such  as  are  felt  only  by  the  most  poverty 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  217 

stricken.  .  .  .  She  never  could  have  dreamed  that  such 
an  irony  of  fate  would  be  reserved  for  her. 

During  the  first  few  months  she  scurried  wildly  about, 
with  the  fierce  irrational  love  of  the  female  animal  that 
sees  her  young  in  danger.  She  went  from  one  govern- 
ment bureau  to  the  other,  taking  advantage  of  all  her 
social  connections !  But  there  were  so  many  mothers ! 
They  were  not  going  to  open  diplomatic  negotiations  for 
a  woman  in  her  position.  .  .  .  Every  day  she  sent  large 
packages  of  food  to  the  offices  that  had  charge  of  prison- 
ers' relief.  They  finally  refused  to  accept  them.  The  en- 
tire service  could  not  take  up  all  its  time  doing  nothing 
but  send  aid  to  a  mere  protege  of  the  Duchess  de  Delille. 
There  were'  thousands  and  thousands  of  men  in  the  same 
situation  as  he.  And  she  could  not  cry  out :  "He  is  my 
son !"  A  scandalous  revelation  like  that  would  not  help 
matters.  She  kept  on  sending  the  packages  regularly 
even  if  they  did  not  go  to  her  George.  They  would  be  used 
to  satisfy  some  one's  hunger.  She  felt  the  magnanimity 
roused  by  great  sorrow;  she  made  her  offerings  like  a 
mother  who,  in  praying  for  her  child  when  all  hope  has 
been  given  up,  prays  for  other  sick  children  also,  feeling 
that  through  her  generosity  her  prayers  may  be  heeded. 

Besides,  the  suspense  was  cruel.  When  the  clerks  took 
her  packages,  they  smiled  sadly.  She  was  practically  cer- 
tain that  her  shipments  of  food  were  being  appropriated 
by  the  guards.  All  the  expensive  eatables  intended  for 
her  son  were  doubtless  used  by  the  old  German  reservists 
in  charge  of  guarding  the  prisoners,  to  have  a  joyous 
feast,  with  the  greedy  merriment  of  fierce  mastiffs,  toast- 
ing to  the  glory  of  the  Kaiser  and  the  triumph  of  their 
♦■ace  over  the  entire  world !  Good  God !  What  could  she 
doi» 

At  long  intervals,  after  tremendous  delays,  she  would 
finally  get  a  postcard  passed  by  the   German   censor. 


2i8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

There  would  be  four  lines,  nothing  more,  written  as  chil- 
dren write  at  school,  under  the  eye  of  the  teacher  stand- 
ing at  their  backs.  But  the  writing  was  George's.  "In 
good  health.  We're  not  badly  treated.  Send  me  eat- 
ables." She  would  spend  long  hours  gazing  at  these 
timid,  deceiving  lines.  For  her  they  acquired  a  new 
meaning.  They  told  something  else:  the  truth,  namely. 
She  recalled  the  stories  of  dying  captives  who  had  come 
from  those  torture  camps,  and  the  lines  seemed  to  stam- 
mer with  groans  of  a  sick  child :  "Mamma  . . .  hun- 
gry.    I'm  hungry!" 

There  were  times  when  she  thought  she  would  go  mad. 
Everything  about  her  brought  to  memory  the  image 
of  her  George,  well  groomed,  and  cared  for  by  her  with 
such  fond  and  exaggerated  attention.  She  had  looked 
after  his  clothes,  taking  an  interest  in  the  respective 
merits  of  his  tailors.  She  had  had  to  endure  his  mascu- 
line protests  when  she  had  tried  to  provide  him  with  un- 
derwear of  fine  silk  like  her  own.  In  the  morning  she 
used  to  go  and  surprise  him,  as  he  lay  in  bed,  like  a  little 
child,  and  kiss  her  own  flesh  and  blood,  metamorphosed 
into  an  athlete.  Everything  seemed  to  her  too  mean  and 
poor  for  that  strong  fellow,  handsome  as  a  god  of  old. 
She  looked  after  his  bed,  his  dresser,  and  his  person  with 
all  the  passionate  fondness  of  a  sweetheart.  She  in- 
spected his  pockets  in  order  continually  to  renew  her 
gifts  of  money.  Her  Mexican  mines  were  his,  and  so 
were  the  frontier  lands,  and  everything  she  possessed. 
And  later  on — she  hated  to  think  when — she  would  see 
him  married  to  some  one  after  her  own  heart.  Then  his 
obscure  birth  was  to  be  glorified  by  the  splendor  of  enor- 
mous wealth.  But  suddenly  the  world,  losing  its  balance, 
had  been  plunged  into  a  furious  madness,  and  this  Prince 
of  Fate,  whose  mother,  in  conference  with  the  chef,  had 
invented  gastronomic  surprises  for  him  alone,  was  cry- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  219 

ing  from  some  far  off  snow-swept  plain  in  the  icy  north : 

"Mother  .    .    .   hungry.      I'm  hungry!" 

"I  went  to  Switzerland  three  times,  Michael.  I  even 
proposed  that  in  Paris  they  should  provide  me  with  means 
of  getting  into  Germany,  offering  to  go  as  a  spy.  But 
they  laughed  at  me ;  and  they  were  right !  What  was  I 
going  to  spy  out?  My  son,  of  course  .  .  .  what  I 
wanted  to  do  in  Germany  was  to  see  my  son.  In  Switzer- 
land I  met  two  crippled  soldiers  who  had  just  been  ex- 
changed, and  came  from  the  camp  where  George  was. 
They  knew  the  aviator  Bachellery.  He  had  tried  to  es- 
cape five  times.  He  enjoyed  a  certain  fame  among  his 
companions  in  misery  for  the  haughtiness  with  which  he 
faced  the  crudest  guards.  The  latest  news  was  uncer- 
tain. They  had  not  seen  him  lately.  They  thought  that 
he  was  then  in  another  prison  camp,  a  punishment  camp, 
farther  inland,  near  the  Polish  frontier,  where  the  refrac- 
tory and  dangerous  prisoners  were  forced  to  undergo  a 
cruel  disciplinary  regime,  and  suffer  terrible  punishments.'* 

Her  voice  trembled  with  anger  as  she  said  this.  She 
could  see  her  son  dragging  a  chain,  and  being  whipped 
like  a  slave.  Oh,  if  she  were  only  a  man,  and  could  be 
left  alone  for  a  moment  with  that  tragi-comedian  with 
the  upturned  mustache  who  had  made  many  millions  of 
women  groan  with  sorrow! 

"And  to  think  that  there  have  been  fanatics  who  have 
killed  good  or  insignificant  kings !  And  not  one  of  them 
has  lifted  a  hand  to  do  away  with  the  Kaiser !  Don't  talk 
to  me  about  anarchists.  They  are  idiots !  I  don't  believe 
in  them," 

This  outburst  of  wrath  vanished  immediately.  Once 
more  grief  and  despair  tore  a  sob  from  her.  She  remem- 
bered a  photograph  she  had  seen  in  one  of  the  newspa- 
pers :  the  torture  called  "the  post,"  applied  by  the  Ger- 
mans in  their  punishment  camps ;  a  Frenchman  in  a  tat- 


220  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tered  uniform,  fastened  to  a  wooden  stake,  as  though  it 
v/ere  a  cross,  on  an  open  snow-covered  plain,  suffering 
for  hours  and  hours  from  the  deadly  cold.  It  was  the 
death  penalty,  hypocritically  applied,  with  savage  refine- 
ments of  torture.  It  was  impossible  to  distinguish  the 
features  of  the  poor  fellow  suffering  like  Christ,  with  his 
head  falling  on  his  breast.  Even  if  it  wasn't  George, 
surely  he  had  also  suffered  the  same  torture. 

"How  can  I  live  in  such  endless  anguish!  They 
wouldn't  let  me  go  back  to  Switzerland.  They  held  up 
my  passports.  I  don't  know  what's  happened  to  him. 
There  are  times  when  it  seems  as  though  my  head  would 
burst.  That's  why  I  avoid  living  alone.  That's  why  I 
gamble,  and  have  to  see  people,  and  talk,  and  get  away 
from  my  thoughts.  Since  then  I've  only  received  one 
postcard  from  my  son,  without  any  date,  and  without 
any  indication  as  to  where  he  is.  It  says  about  the  same 
as  the  other  one.  The  writing  is  his,  and  nevertheless  it 
seems  to  be  in  another  hand.  Oh,  what  that  writing 
says !  I  see  him  like  the  other  man,  like  the  poor  fellow 
fastened  to  the  post  covered  with  rags,  as  thin  as  a  skele- 
ton .  .  .  My  son!" 

Michael  was  obliged  to  take  both  her  hands  in  a  strong 
grip,  and  draw  them  towards  him,  holding  her  up,  to 
keep  her  from  falling  on  the  bed  in  hysterical  convulsions. 
He  was  sorry  that  he  had  come,  and,  by  his  curiosity,  in- 
vited a  confession  that  aroused  the  woman's  grief. 

As  for  her,  she  looked  at  him  with  wide-open  staring 
eyes,  without  seeing  him.  Finally,  concentrating  with  an 
effort,  she  noticed  Michael's  emotion.  This  calmed  her 
somewhat. 

"You  can  be  glad  you  don't  know  what  such  torture  is 
like.  There's  no  end  to  it :  there's  no  help  for  it.  When 
I  think  of  him,  I  feel  as  though  I  were  going  to  die.  Not 
to  know  about  him!    Not  to  be  able  to  do  anything!    I 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  221 

ought  really  to  find  some  diversion  and  learn  to  think  of 
something  else.  One  must  live:  one  can't  be  always 
weeping.  But  whenever  I  succeed  in  getting  interested 
in  anything,  I  immediately  feel  remorse.  I  call  myself 
names:  'You're  a  bad  mother,  to  forget  your  sorrows.' 
A  day  seldom  passes  that  I  eat  without  crying.  I'm  tor- 
mented by  the  thought  that  he  would  be  happy  with  what 
is  left  from  my  table,  with  what  the  servants  eat,  or  per- 
haps with  what  they  give  to  the  dog !  And  when  Valeria 
and  Clorinda  see  my  tears,  they  can't  explain  such  con- 
stant grief.  They  don't  know  my  secret.  They  think 
like  every  one  else,  that  it's  simply  a  question  of  a  mere 
protege  or  a  young  lover.  They  can't  understand  such 
despair  over  a  mere  man.  That's  why  I  gamble  so  much. 
It's  the  only  thing  that  really  keeps  my  mind  occupied, 
and  makes  me  forget  for  a  time;  it's  my  anaesthetic.  Be- 
fore, I  used  to  play  just  for  the  excitement,  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  struggling  with  fate;  and  because  I  was  flattered 
by  the  amazement  of  the  curiosity  seekers  who  watched 
me  stake  enormous  sums  with  indifference.  Now  it's  on 
his  account — and  for  no  other  reason." 

Alicia's  mind  reverted  to  her  financial  difficulties.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  her  fortune  had  been  seriously  impaired 
some  years  earlier,  but  she  had  always  had  hopes  of 
some  sudden  recuperation.  Besides,  the  period  before  the 
war  had  been  the  happiest  time  of  her  life.  She  had  her 
son  and  she  lived  her  life,  without  any  thought  of  busi- 
ness matters.  Later  her  financial  ruin  had  come  along 
with  the  loss  of  George. 

"If  only  I  had  the  wealth  I  used  to  have !  I  know  the 
power  of  money.  I  could  have  moved  men  and  even  gov- 
ernments. I  would  have  written  to  the  Kaiser,  or  to  Hin- 
denburg,  sending  them  a  million,  two  million,  or  any 
amount  they  asked.  'Now  that  you  are  reestablishing 
slavery  and  pillaging  towns,  here  is  money  for  you.    Give 


222  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

me  back  my  son,'  And  now  I  would  have  him  back  at 
my  side.  But  I'm  poor !  If  you  knew  how  I  love  money 
now,  just  for  his  sake!  I  dream  of  winning  big  stakes, 
five  hundred  thousand  francs  or  maybe  a  million,  in  two 
or  three  days.  How  happy  I  am  when  I  come  back  from 
the  Casino  with  a  few  thousand  francs  to  the  good !  'It's 
to  send  my  poor  boy  a  box  with  something  good  to  eat,' 
I  say  to  myself.  Then  I  write  to  the  stores,  or  go  there 
myself,  keeping  in  mind  the  things  he  liked  best.  You 
are  rich  and  don't  understand  how  hard  it  is  to  get  along 
now,  how  scarce  things  are  getting,  and  how  much  they 
cost !  I  didn't  have  any  idea  of  such  things  before,  either. 
And  I  send  him  boxes  of  the  nicest  things ;  and  I  feel 
proud  that  in  my  mind  I  can  say  to  him :  'It's  with  the 
money  mamma  won  for  you  .  .  .  it's  with  my  work!' 
Don't  smile,  Michael.  That's  what  it  is — work !  Besides, 
what  else  could  I  work  at?  The  one  thing  that  worries 
me  is  how  to  address  these  shipments.  'For  the  Aviator 
Bachellery,  prisoner  in  Germany.'  That's  all  I  know,  and 
there  are  so  many  prisoners !  Almost  all  my  shipments 
must  be  lost;  but  some  at  least  will  reach  him.  Don't 
you  think  he'll  get  some  of  them?" 

The  Prince  greeted  this  anxious  question  with  a  vague 
gesture  of  agreement.  "Yes  ; — perhaps,  almost  certainly !" 

Immediately  Alicia  showed  a  certain  reassurance.  Eight 
months  had  gone  by  without  her  hearing  anything  about 
him ;  but  other  mothers  were  in  the  same  situation.  There 
was  no  use  despairing.  Men  who  had  been  given  up  for 
dead  in  the  early  battles  of  the  war  were  returning  home 
after  a  long  period  of  captivity.  Besides,  did  it  seem 
reasonable  to  believe  that  a  son  of  hers  was  going  to  die 
of  hunger  and  want,  like  a  beggar? 

Lubimoff  again  nodded  assent.  "Really,  it  didn't  seem 
reasonable !" 

"There  are  moments,"  she  said,  "when  I  feel  an  un- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  223 

explainable  joy,  a  mysterious  intuition,  that  I'm  going 
to  receive  good  news, — the  feeling  I  have  on  the  days 
when  I  go  to  the  Casino  sure  of  winning, — and  do  win. 
I  wrote  to  the  King  of  Spain,  who  is  interested  in  as- 
certaining the  fate  of  prisoners,  and  who  often  succeeds 
in  getting  them  sent  back  to  their  homes.  I  have  had 
a  great  number  of  friends  write  to  him.  If  he  could 
only  give  me  back  my  George !  At  least  I  expect  to 
learn  good  news;  to  find  out  where  he  is,  and  convince 
myself  that  he  is  alive.  I  would  be  satisfied  if  they 
interned  him  in  Switzerland,  the  way  they  do  with  the 
seriously  wounded,  and  I  would  go  and  live  with  him. 
How  happy  I  would  be  if  he  were  in  Lausanne  or  Vevey, 
beside  the  lake,  like  my  husband !" 

There  was  a  sad,  kindly  smile  on  her  face  as  she 
thought  of  the  Duke. 

"Oh,  I  haven't  forgotten  him,  I  assure  you.  Every- 
thing that's  left  over  from  George's  boxes,  I  send  to  him 
by  way  of  Geneva.  'For  Lieutenant-Colonel  de  Delille.' 
Oh,  it  reaches  him,  without  any  difficulty !  Poor  fellow ! 
His  answers  are  almost  love  letters.  I  send  him  sausages 
and  canned  things,  in  memory  of  the  twenty  louis  bou- 
quets he  used  to  send  me  when  he  was  courting  me.  What 
are  we  coming  to,  Michael!  Who  could  ever  have  im- 
agined that  everything  and  everybody  would  be  so  topsy- 
turvy !" 

Already  she  was  talking  more  calmly,  as  though  the 
memory  of  her  son  was  no  longer  in  the  foreground  of 
her  thoughts. 

"Everything  seems  to  tell  me  I'm  going  to  get  good 
news.  Misfortune  can't  last  so  very  much  longer.  Doesn't 
it  seem  that  way  to  you?  It's  like  bad  luck  in  play:  it 
finally  goes  away.  The  main  thing  is  to  save  your 
strength  in  order  to  resist  it.  I  ought  to  feel  satisfied. 
I  was  so  excited  I  could  hardly  sleep  last  night.    I  went 


224  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

above  the  thirty;  you  know:  the  thirty  thousand  francs 
that  used  to  be  the  Hmit  of  my  luck.  Last  night  I  won 
eighty  thousand.  Your  friend  Lewis  was  furious.  He 
says  it  takes  a  woman  to  do  a  thing  like  that :  to  win, 
playing  haphazard,  defying  all  the  rules." 

From  the  look  on  the  Prince's  face  she  guessed  his 
surprise  at  her  merriment  following  so  closely  on  her 
recent  tears. 

*'I  can't  stay  by  myself.  I  have  such  memories !  Per- 
haps you  heard  me  singing,  as  you  came  up-stairs.  It's 
an  English  song  my  son  used  to  sing.  In  the  morning 
I  used  to  go  and  listen  at  his  door  like  a  sweetheart  who, 
while  waiting  for  him  to  appear,  is  glad  to  hear  the  voice 
of  the  man  she  loves.  Whenever  I'm  alone  I  sing  it 
over  mechanically;  I  try  to  imagine  it  is  George  singing, 
and  my  eyes  fill  with  tears,  but  with  tears  of  tenderness 
that  are  very  sweet.  While  I  was  making  the  bed  it 
seemed  as  though  I  heard  him,  going  back  and  forth  in 
his  bedroom,  with  me  waiting  and  listening  in  the  hall. 
My  voice  was  his  voice.  That  was  why  I  fairly  trembled 
when  you  came  in.  For  a  moment  I  supposed  you  were 
he.  How  wonderful  it  will  be  when  I  see  him !  .  .  .  I'm 
sure  I  shall  see  him.  Misfortune  can't  last  forever.  Don't 
you  think  I'll  see  him?" 

Her  closed  eyes  seemed  to  smile  on  a  far-off  vision 
of  hope.  And  Michael,  who  had  remained  silent  for  a 
long  time,  spoke  to  give  her  encouragement.  Poor 
woman!  Yes;  she  would  see  her  son.  At  his  age  a 
man  can  stand  any  hardship.  He  would  return;  they 
would  both  be  happy  once  more,  talking  over  their  present 
troubles,  as  though  it  had  all  been  a  bad  dream. 

"Besides,  I  will  help  you.  We  must  get  busy  and  take 
steps  to  have  your  son  returned  to  you.  I  shall  write  to 
the  King  of  Spain.  I  knew  him.  He  had  lunch  on  my 
yacht  once  when  I  was  in  San  Sebastian.    I  have  friends 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  225 

in  Paris,  men  in  politics,  and  diplomats ;  I  shall  write  to 
all  of  them.  And  if  worse  comes  to  worst,  and  there's 
no  other  way  out  of  it,  I  shall  try  through  the  medium 
of  some  neutral  government  to  get  a  letter  through  to 
Wilhelm  II.  Perhaps  he  may  pay  some  attention  to  me. 
He  must  remember  me,  and  his  visit  to  my  boat." 

Now  it  was  her  turn  to  look  at  him  fixedly  through  a 
mist  of  tears,  smiling,  at  the  same  time,  to  express  her 
gratitude. 

"How  kind  you  are!"  she  exclaimed  after  a  long 
silence.  "The  day  when  I  was  in  Villa  Sirena  for  the 
first  time  I  was  convinced  that  I  had  made  a  great  mis- 
take. How  little  we  knew  each  other!  We  needed  ad- 
versity to  see  each  other  as  we  really  are.  First  you 
offered  to  relieve  my  poverty,  and  now  you  are  going  to 
try  to  get  me  back  my  son!" 

She  let  herself  be  carried  away  by  an  impulse  of 
affection.  Michael  saw  her  bend  her  head,  and  suddenly 
felt  the  contact  of  her  lips  on  his  hand.  He  heard  two 
loud  kisses  and  a  voice  whispering:  "Thanks  .  .  . 
thanks."  The  Prince  rose  to  his  feet.  He  could  not 
tolerate  such  expression  of  humility.  But  at  the  same 
time  she  too  stood  up;  their  eyes  were  on  a  level.  As 
though  desiring  to  complete  the  recent  caress,  she  took 
his  head  impulsively  in  her  hands,  and  kissed  him  on  the 
brow. 

A  sudden  wave  of  human  fragrance,  like  that  which 
had  enveloped  him  when  the  sheet  had  been  thrown  on 
his  face,  once  more  stirred  the  depths  of  his  being.  He 
realized  that  the  caress  meant  nothing :  that  it  was  merely 
a  kiss  of  gratitude,  a  sudden  outburst  of  feeling  on  the 
part  of  a  mother  expressing  her  emotion  with  unusual 
impetuousness.  In  spite  of  this,  he  felt  himself  domi- 
nated by  passion,  cruel  and  at  the  same  time  voluptuous, 
causing  him  to  reach  out  his  arms  to  master  and  embrace 


226  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

what  he  held  within  reach.  .  .  .  But  his  hands  touched 
empty  space. 

Repenting  her  act,  she  had  stepped  back,  retreating 
a  few  steps.  She  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  ready 
to  continue  her  flight,  mechanically  straightening  her  hair, 
and  drying  her  tears,  as  a  deep  blush  spread  over  her 
features. 

"I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing!"  she  murmured. 
"Forgive  me.  I  was  so  grateful  to  learn  that  you  wanted 
to  help  me!" 

At  the  same  time  she  pointed  to  the  balcony.  Below, 
in  the  garden,  the  voice  of  the  gardener  could  be  heard 
telling  his  dog  to  stop  that  barking  all  the  time  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  as  though  a  thief  were  inside  the  villa. 

"Let  us  go,"  she  commanded  gravely.  "The  servants 
will  soon  be  coming  back  from  mass.  I  shouldn't  like 
to  have  them  find  us  here  in  my  bedroom.  They  might 
think    ..." 

Calming  down,  Lubimoff  noted  the  unconscious  mod- 
esty, and  the  evident  uneasiness  with  which  she  said 
this.  He  suddenly  recalled  the  woman  of  the  "study" 
on  the  Avenue  du  Bois,  and  her  daring  theories.  Was 
it  really  the  same  person? 

As  they  went  downstairs  she  turned  her  head  to  talk 
to  him,  as  though  she  had  read  his  thoughts. 

"You  must  be  amused  at  me.  What  a  change  from 
the  Alicia  of  former  times!  I'm  not  so  bad  as  I  seem, 
that  much  is  certain,  Isn't  it?  Tell  me  you  don't  think 
I'm  so  bad ;  tell  me  you  think  I'm  only  mad ;  mad,  and 
always  unlucky." 

She  opened  the  rooms  downstairs  to  show  how  orderly 
they  looked,  but  the  chill  of  the  deserted  drawing  room, 
the  covers  on  the  furniture,  and  the  musty  odor,  like 
that  of  a  damp  cellar,  prompted  them  to  go  out  into  the 
garden  and,  like  two  people  prolonging  their  farewell, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  227 

continue  their  conversation  at  the  foot  of  the  stairway. 

The  elderly  maid  of  the  Duchess,  and  the  gardener's 
wife  who  looked  after  the  cooking,  passed  them  re- 
peatedly on  various  pretexts.  They  bowed  to  the  gentle- 
man, with  a  look  of  adoration  and  a  pleasant  smile.  They 
seemed  to  be  saying  to  themselves :  "That  nice  fellow  is 
Prince  Lubimofif,  the  one  that's  so  much  talked  about." 
They  had  often  heard  his  name  in  Villa  Rosa,  and  they 
both  venerated  him  as  a  providential  being  who  could 
restore  the  vanished  days  of  abundance  with  a  mere  wave 
of  the  hand. 

Michael  thought  it  best  not  to  prolong  his  visit. 

"Come  and  see  me,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  as  she 
accompanied  him  out  to  the  gate.  "Now  you  know  every- 
thing. You're  the  only  one  who  does.  It  will-  seem  very 
sweet  to  me  to  talk  with  you,  and  have  you  console  and 
help  me." 

The  Prince  spent  the  next  few  hours,  pensive  and 
silent.  So  many  new  things  had  come  up  all  at  once! 
First  there  had  been  the  revelation  of  a  son,  whose 
existence  he  never  could  have  imagined;  next,  the  un- 
tamable creature  of  love  changed  into  a  mother;  her 
tears,  her  silent  suffering,  which  she  was  bearing,  like  a 
convict's  chain,  in  expiation  of  her  mad  past.  And  the 
crowning  surprise  of  all  had  been  what  he  had  felt  within 
himself,  the  resurrection  of  his  former  being,  his  new 
surrender  to  the  domination  of  the  flesh,  and  the  double 
lashing  his  nervous  system  had  received  in  breathing  the 
perfume  of  the  soft  linen  and  feeling  the  imprint  of  her 
lips  on  his  brow. 

This  latter  he  wished  to  forget,  and  to  succeed  in  doing 
so  he  concentrated  all  his  attention  on  the  revelations  she 
had  made,  and  on  her  maternal  sorrows.  Poor  Alicia! 
Finding  her  impoverished  and  tearful,  with  no  other 
help  than  that  which  he  might  give,  he  began  to  feel  a 


228  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

lasting  affection  for  her.  It  was  the  affection  of  the 
strong  for  the  weak ;  a  paternal  love  which  did  not 
take  into  account  the  similarity  in  their  ages,  nor  the 
difference  of  sex;  a  tenderness  made  up  for  the  most 
part  of  a  certain  sweet  pity.  He  was  moved  by  the 
memory  of  the  humble  kiss  with  which  she  had  caressed 
his  hands.  It  was  the  kiss,  almost  of  a  beggar.  Unhappy 
woman !  This  was  enough  to  make  him  feel  obliged  never 
to  abandon  her. 

Alicia's  ppde,  her  desire  to  dominate,  had  formerly 
irritated  him.  Accustomed  to  protecting  women  gener- 
ously without  ever  submitting  to  their  will,  considering 
them  in  the  light  of  something  agreeable  and  inferior,  he 
could  not  compromise  with  her  haughty  character.  They 
were  both  people  too  strong  and  domineering  to  be  able 
to  tolerate  each  other.    But  now  everything  was  changed. 

He  remembered  her  as  he  had  seen  her  in  the  bedroom, 
sorrowful,  weeping,  with  pearls  hanging  from  the  cor- 
ners of  her  eyes,  which  were  tragically  beautiful,  as  in  the, 
images  of  the  Virgin,  where  Mary  is  holding  the  body  of 
the  crucified  Christ  on  her  knees.    Mater  Dolorosa! 

But  there  seemed  to  be  another  person  within  the 
Prince  protesting  with  cold,  clear-sightedness  against 
this  image.  No,  she  was  not  the  Mother  of  Sorrows. 
A  mother  never  abandons  her  son.  She  renounces  all 
of  the  vanities  of  this  world  for  him.  She  gives  up  her 
present  and  her  future,  as  though  she  had  no  other  life 
than  that  of  her  son,  part  of  her  own  flesh.  At  all  hours 
she  gives  him  the  milk  of  her  breast.  Moment  by  moment 
she  follows  his  development,  fighting  with  illness,  laugh- 
ing at  danger.  To  love  him  she  does  not  have  to  wait 
for  him  to  grow  to  the  full  splendor  of  adolescence. 
Whereas  she  .  .  . ! 

She  was  the  Venus  Dolorosa.  Even  in  the  moments 
of  deepest  despair  she  maintained  her  beauty,  and  her 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  229 

grief  seemed  a  new  means  of  seduction.  She  was  a 
mother:  but  she  continued  to  be  a  woman,  that  terrible, 
destructive  woman  whom  the  Prince  had  always  hated. 
Look  out,  Michael ! 

But  with  a  smile  of  superiority  he  replied  inwardly  to 
this  reflection. 

"Perhaps  I  am  going  to  fall  in  love  with  her,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "I  am  fond  of  her  as  I  never  thought 
I  could  be,  but  only  as  a  friend,  a  companion  worthy 
of  pity,  one  whom  I  ought  to  protect." 

At  lunch  time  Spadoni  did  not  turn  up  at  Villa  Sirena. 
Atilio  had  seen  him  at  the  Casino  with  some  English 
friends  from  Nice.  They  were  probably  lunching  to- 
gether at  the  Hotel  de  Paris  to  work  out  some  new 
system  or  other.  The  last  thing  they  had  tried  was 
for  the  four  of  them  to  play  at  different  tables,  but  with 
the  same  system  of  combinations,  a  device  that  the  pianist 
boasted  would  prove  infallible. 

After  they  had  had  their  coffee,  all  the  guests  of  the 
luxurious  villa  seemed  possessed  by  the  same  restlessness, 
which  would  not  let  them  sit  still. 

Castro  was  the  first  one  to  leave,  announcing  that  he 
was  going  to  the  Casino.  He  had  a  feeling  that  it  was 
going  to  be  a  "great  evening."  He  had  had  his  eyes  on 
a  croupier  who  started  work  at  half-past  three.  He  knew 
this  man's  style  of  starting  the  ball.  Every  croupier  has 
his  own  mannerisms.  Some  do  it  with  a  long  sweep, 
and  others  with  a  short  jerky  motion  of  the  arm.  This 
particular  one  made  it  fall  most  frequently  in  seventeen, 
and  that  was  Castro's  number. 

Novoa  was  the  next  to  go,  but  he  was  less  frank  about 
it.  He  stammered  blushingly  as  he  said  good-by  to  the 
Prince.  Perhaps  he  would  spend  the  afternoon  with 
some  friends  from  Monaco.  Perhaps  he  would  take  a 
short  trip  on  the  Nice  road  as  far  as  Cap  d'Ail  or  Beau- 


230  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

lieu.  His  was  the  embarrassment  of  a  man  who  does 
not  know  how  to  lie. 

The  Prince  was  left  alone.  He  looked  at  the  sea  for 
a  while.  Then  he  changed  windows,  and  gazed  at  the 
gardens.  He  pressed  a  button  to  call  Don  Marcos.  He 
did  not  know  what  he  was  going  to  say  to  him  but  he 
felt  he  must  see  him  in  order  not  to  remain  alone.  One 
of  the  old  women  servants  appeared,  and  announced  that 
the  Colonel  had  gone  to  Monte  Carlo. 

"He,  too,"  the  Prince  said  to  himself. 

In  order  to  escape  the  tediousness  of  spending  a  Sun- 
day afternoon  alone,  he  took  his  hat  and  overcoat.  Some 
power  beyond  his  comprehension  was  impelling  him  to- 
ward the  neighboring  city.  Turning  away  from  the  villa, 
he  walked  through  the  gardens. 

The  edifice,  thus  deserted,  appeared  larger,  and  its 
frowning  and  angry  silence  seemed  to  be  asking  him  why 
anybody  had  ever  been  such  a  fool  as  to  waste  so  much 
money  and  material  on  a  box  like  that. 

Along  the  nearby  road,  street  cars  and  carriages  were 
gliding,  filled  with  city  people  who  were  coming  out  for 
a  glimpse  of  the  smiling  sea,  or  of  a  group  of  pines,  or  to 
find  a  height  that  might  afford  a  panoramic  view. 

And  he,  the  owner  of  the  famous  gardens  of  Villa 
Sirena,  was  deserting  all  this  beauty  to  go  to  a  city  from 
which  others  were  trying  to  escape. 

Lubimoff  recalled  the  splendid  scheme  of  life  he  had 
worked  out  a  few  months  before:  a  community  of  lay 
brethren  shut  off  from  the  world  in  a  spot  like  paradise : 
music,  astronomy,  pleasant  conversations,  wholesome 
work.  And  now  the  monks  were  running  away  on  all 
sorts  of  pretexts,  and  he,  who  was  their  prior,  also  was 
feeling  an  unexplainable  impulse  to  follow  their  ex- 
ample. Even  Toledo,  the  faithful  admirer  of  that  estate 
which  he  had  considered  the  best  work  of  his  life,  seemed 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  231 

to  be  suffering  from  the  same  feverish  desire  to  get  away. 

Near  the  gate  he  turned  to  contemplate  his  beautiful 
domain  as  if  to  beg  its  pardon.  There  was  a  silence  like 
that  surrounding  an  enchanted  palace.  The  gardens 
seemed  asleep  like  dream  woods. 

He  thought  he  saw  at  the  end  of  a  long  avenue  a 
flutter  of  two  large  birds.  It  was  Estola  and  Pistola, 
in  afternoon  coats  too  long  for  them,  running  toward 
the  end  of  the  promontory.  It  was  as  though  Villa 
Sirena  had  been  constructed  for  them.  They  could  play 
with  the  active  joy  of  youth  in  these  gardens,  to  the 
envy  of  those  who  lingered  at  the  gate  out  of  curiosity. 
As  they  ran  along  they  were  free  to  trample  on  rare 
plants  brought  from  the  other  side  of  the  globe;  free 
to  jump  from  rock  to  rock  in  search  of  the  little  fishes 
left  by  the  waves  in  miniature  lakes  in  the  hollows  of 
the  rock,  until  their  coat  tails  were  wet  and  their  shoes 
full  of  holes — to  the  despair  of  the  Colonel,  who  made 
the  servants  pass  in  review  before  him  every  day. 

Michael  preferred  not  to  ask  himself  where  he  was 
going.  He  surely  had  some  end  in  view  when  he  started 
his  walk,  but  he  felt  it  a  nuisance  to  think  about  it. 
Suddenly  he  saw  two  currents  of  people  coming  from 
opposite  directions,  meeting  and  mingling,  as  they  both 
mounted  a  short  winding  stairway  which  was  divided 
by  two  hand-rails,  and  was  covered  by  three  red  carpets. 

He  was  in  front  of  the  Casino.  On  one  side,  were 
arriving  the  people  who  had  just  come  by  train,  on  the 
other,  those  who  had  been  gathered  in  by  all  the  street 
cars  from  the  towns  on  the  Riviera  between  Nice  and 
Monte  Carlo. 

That  evening  a  celebrated  Italian  tenor  was  singing, 
and  many  of  the  people,  forgetting  their  game  for  the 
moment,  were  gathering  in  the  theater. 

Lubimoff  found  himself  immediately  attended  by  two 


232  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

solemn  gentlemen  in  frock  coats  with  black  ties  and  their 
heads  bare.    They  were  two  inspectors  from  the  Casino. 

"We  are  very  sorry,  Prince,  but  everything  is  full. 
There  are  people  even  in  the  aisles." 

But  since  it  was  he,  one  of  the  two  men  accompanied 
him  as  far  as  the  box  belonging  to  the  Prime  Minister  of 
Monaco.  The  man  who  governed  for  the  Sovereign 
Prince  recognized  him  and  was  anxious  to  give  him  the 
best  seat,  but  Michael,  disliking  public  curiosity,  pre- 
ferred to  remain  in  the  second  row. 

It  was  a  theater  without  any  balconies.  The  audi- 
torium was  wider  than  it  was  deep.  The  rows  of  com- 
fortable seats  were  all  alike  and  all  sold  at  the  same 
price.  The  stage  was  used  for  concerts  and,  on  rare 
occasions,  for  plays  and  operas. 

The  architect  who  had  built  the  Paris  Opera  House 
had  repeated  the  same  dazzling  display  in  this  hall.  There 
were  gold  ornaments  on  every  side,  elaborate  moldings, 
caryatids  and  immense  mirrors.  There  was  not  a  hand's 
breadth  of  the  wall  without  its  gilded  stucco,  raised  in 
bold  relief. 

In  the  hall  at  the  rear  above  the  seats  that  rose  at  a 
decided  angle,  were  five  boxes,  the  only  ones  there  were. 

They  were  reserved  for  the  Sovereign  Prince  and  his 
high  officials. 

While  listening  to  the  singing,  Michael  examined  the 
crowded  mass  of  people,  as  well  as  he  could,  from  his 
seat.    He  recognized  many  as  he  gazed  over  their  heads. 

Toward  the  front  he  distinguished  a  man  with  gray 
hair  that  was  parted  from  the  forehead  to  the  nape  of 
the  neck,  and  brushed  forward  mingling  with  his  side 
whiskers,  in  an  Austrian  fashion.  It  was  the  Colonel, 
who  was  listening  with  a  certain  air  of  authority,  sway- 
ing his  head  to  show  his  approbation  of  the  celebrated 
tenor.    But  he  was  not  alone.    The  Prince  saw  him  bend 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  233 

toward  a  girl  with  curly  hair  and  a  string  of  large  amber 
beads.    Oh,  the  traitor ! 

There  was  no  doubt  about  it.  It  must  have  been  the 
gardener's  daughter.  That  was  why  he  had  fled  in  such 
a  hurry.  The  milliner's  apprentice  had  insisted.  She 
was  anxious  to  hear  the  singer  she  had  heard  the  ladies 
talk  so  much  about. 

When  the  huge  nightingale  had  retired  to  the  wings,  the 
Colonel  offered  his  protegee  a  cornucopia  full  of  cara- 
mels. Caramels  in  wartime!  An  extravagance,  indeed, 
that  only  a  lover  could  allow  himself. 

In  the  intermission,  the  Prince  slipped  away,  for  fear 
that  he  might  meet  Don  Marcos  and  spoil  his  aide's  pleas- 
ant afternoon  by  his  presence.  Besides,  he  was  not 
interested  in  the  opera  ox  in  the  highly  praised  artist. 

He  crossed  the  large  ante-room  with  its  columns  of 
jasper  supporting  a  gallery  with  balusters  surmounted 
by  bronze  candelabras.  At  one  end  of  the  room  the  latest 
news  was  posted  on  panels.  The  Prince  read  it  without 
any  curiosity. 

Nothing  new.  The  same  as  ever.  The  monotonous 
trench  warfare  was  continuing.  Ground  gained  and  lost 
by  the  yard.    There  would  be  no  end  to  it. 

He  slipped  out  between  the  groups  of  people  during 
the  intermission,  taking  care  that  the  Colonel  should  not 
see  him. 

Poor  Don  Marcos!  He  was  walking  along  gravely 
and  proudly  by  the  side  of  his  protegee,  who  might  have 
been  his  granddaughter.  He  glanced  with  hostility  at 
all  the  young  men,  while  behind  his  back,  she  made  eyes 
at  every  passing  uniform. 

The  Prince  was  obliged  to  force  his  way  through  a 
motionless  compact  group  made  up  of  wounded  officers. 
French,  Canadians,  Australians,  and  Englishmen.  Mingled 
with  them  were  nurses  of  various  types — some  with  nun- 


234  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

like  veils  and  with  a  delicate  appearance;  others  with  a 
masculine  look,  having  neckties  and  uniforms  with  gold 
buttons,  without  any  feminine  apparel  except  their  skirts. 
Some  who  were  older  and  had  short  hair,  red  faces,  and 
large  shell  spectacles  had  to  be  examined  closely  before 
one  could  be  convinced,  from  their  hybrid  appearance, 
that  they  were  women.  They  crowded  together  in  front 
of  the  three  double  curtains  leading  to  the  gambling 
rooms.  Those  who  belonged  in  any  way  to  the  army 
or  navy  of  any  nation  whatsoever  were  not  allowed  to 
pass  this  limit.  Soldiers  could  enter  only  the  theater  and 
the  ante- room  of  the  Casino.  And  those  people  who  in 
their  far-off  countries  had  often  heard  of  Monte  Carlo, 
finding  themselves  there  by  chance  of  war,  were  crowd- 
ing at  the  curtains  with  childish  curiosity,  admiring,  for 
an  instant,  as  the  draperies  rapidly  opened  and  closed, 
the  vision  of  gilded  rooms,  all  in  a  row  and  filled  with 
people.  Afterwards  they  would  withdraw,  giving  up 
their  places  to  other  comrades.  At  last  they  had  seen  it ! 
Now  they  could  say  they  knew  all  about  Monte  Carlo ! 

The  employees  in  their  black  frock  coats  opened  one 
of  the  curtains,  greeting  the  Prince  as  though  he  were 
an  old  acquaintance.  It  was  the  first  time  Michael  had 
entered  the  gaming  rooms  since  his  return.  It  seemed 
to  him  as  though  he  had  awakened  miraculously  into  the 
world  of  things  before  the  war.  Everything  that  was 
afflicting  humanity  remained  on  the  other  side  of  the 
door,  as  the  action  of  a  drama,  unreal  but  exciting,  re- 
mains on  the  stage  of  a  theater  which  we  leave  behind 
us.  He  found  even  a  certain  attractiveness  in  the  archi- 
tecture of  these  drawing  rooms,  because  of  their  vague 
familiarity,  recalling  the  pleasant  days  of  his  life.  He  was 
in  the  Renaissance  hall,  but  his  whole  attention  was 
taken  by  the  adjoining  parlor,  the  central  rotunda  of  the 
Casino,  called  the  "Schmidt  Drawing  Room,"  the  one  on 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  235 

which  all  the  other  rooms  converge  and  which  seems  to 
be  prolonged  under  the  dividing  archways  to  the  far- 
thest ends  of  the  building. 

A  pulsing  silence  arose  from  the  mass  of  human  beings 
around  the  green  tables.  Every  one  was  talking  in  a 
low  voice  as  though  in  church.  From  time  to  time  this 
murmur  was  broken  by  a  long  swishing  sound,  a  noise 
like  that  of  pebbles  on  the  shore  swept  by  a  wave.  It  was 
caused  by  the  rakes  of  the  employees  sweeping  the  g^een 
cloth  and  carrying  with  them  the  clashing  coins  and 
ivory  ships — all  the  spoils  of  the  losings.  The  voices  of 
the  croupiers,  like  those  of  officers  giving  commands, 
arose  above  the  feverish  silence  which  reminded  one  of 
a  humming  hive. 

"Fttites  vos  jeux.  Vos  jeux  sont  faits?  ,  .  .  Rien  ne 
va  plus." 

The  hall  gradually  lost  the  suppressed  noises  which 
served  to  accentuate  its  silence.  People  breathed  more 
naturally,  as  they  craned  their  necks  to  see  better  over 
the  shoulders  of  those  in  front  of  them.  Some  of  the 
women  were  standing  on  one  foot  only,  with  the  other 
raised  behind  them  like  dancers  bending  over  to  touch 
the  ground  with  their  hands.  They  all  crowded  tO' 
gether,  paying  no  attention  to  the  sex  of  the  persons 
against  whom  they  were  pushing.  During  this  pause; 
marked  by  long  faces,  frowning  eyebrows,  drawn  mouths, 
and  converging  glances,  there  resounded  with  its  noise 
increased  by  a  diabolical  echo,  the  rattling  of  the  tiny 
ivory  ball  as  it  whirled  in  the  grooves  along  the  wooden 
rim,  while  the  colored  rows  of  the  roulette  wheel  kept 
spinning  in  the  opposite  direction,  like  a  kaleidoscope. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  sharp  click.  The  ball  had  ended  its 
circular  flight,  falling  into  a  number.  The  silence  was 
prolonged.  The  spectators'  necks  were  craned  even  more. 
There  was  a  nervous  clenching  of  fists.    Again  there  was 


236  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  sound  of  pebbles  washed  by  the  sea.  The  rakes  were 
sweeping  the  green  table.  It  was  a  bad  number  for  the 
players.  Whenever  a  stifled  uproar  occurred,  caused  by 
a  hundred  bosoms  suddenly  breathing  freely,  it  took  the 
croupiers  several  minutes  to  resume  play.  They  had  to 
pay  the  winners  and  settle  disputes  between  those  who 
claimed  the  same  bet.  At  the  end  of  each  play  various 
groups  at  a  table  would  disengage  themselves  to  go  over 
to  another;  but  the  ring  of  people  always  remained  com- 
pact through  the  arrival  of  new  spectators. 

From  the  central  skylight  a  dim  splendor  descended. 
Outside  the  sun  was  shining  on  the  azure  sea.  This  light 
was  like  that  of  a  wine  cellar,  a  light,  according  to  Castro, 
like  that  of  a  Hall  of  Congress.  It  was  a  yellowish  light 
gold  which  seemed  to  increase  the  magnificence  of  the 
drawing  rooms.  The  architecture  was  of  the  rich  and 
majestic  sort  that  attracts  the  crowd  and  the  newly  rich. 
The  columns  and  pillars  of  onyx  and  bronze  held  up  a 
magnificent  ceiling,  broken  by  the  circular  stained  glass 
of  the  skylight.  In  the  four  triangles  of  the  vault  were 
statues  representing  Air,  Earth,  Fire,  and  Water,  as 
though  these  four  elements  had  some  relation  to  the 
business  which  gave  the  vast  edifice  its  reason  for 
existence. 

Four  metal  spiders,  huge  and  glistening,  completed  the 
heavy  sumptuousness  of  the  decoration.  Where  there 
were  no  gilded  ornaments  or  mirrors,  the  walls  were 
covered  with  showy  pictures.  These  paintings  and  all 
of  the  rest  that  adorned  the  Casino  were  the  object  of 
MichaeFs  jests.  Some  of  them  were  fairly  acceptable. 
The  majority  appeared  very  ancient  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  they  were  not  over  forty  years  old.  But  there  was 
nothing  noble  about  their  antique  appearance.  It  seemed 
rather  as  though  they  had  lain  for  centuries  in  scorn  and 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  237 

oblivion.  Atilio  accounted  for  the  appearance  of  these 
canvases  in  a  way  of  his  own.  According  to  him  they 
were  the  work  of  various  patrons  ruined  by  gambling, 
whom  the  Casino  felt  obliged  to  advertise. 

The  Prince  began  to  notice  well-known  faces  in  this 
crowd  which  was  being  constantly  renewed,  and  was 
changing  each  moment.  The  whole  world,  sooner  or 
later  passed  that  way.  That  floor  with  its  various  inlaid 
woods  was  one  of  the  most  frequented  spots  of  Europe. 
It  was  something  like  the  ancient  Roman  forum,  a  point 
on  which  all  roads  of  the  entire  world  converged.  Idlers 
from  the  entire  globe  were  attracted  to  this  room.  They 
all  dreamed  of  being  able  to  go  sometime  and  risk  a 
coin  in  the  great  Mediterranean  gambling  house.  Men 
from  other  continents  disembarking  in  the  old  world 
wrote  Monte  Carlo  on  the  itinerary  of  their  travels.  But 
this  human  river  which  constantly  glided  along,  receiving 
new  waves  of  arrivals,  kept  leaving  in  the  crannies  of  its 
shores,  pools  of  stagnant  waters,  clogged  by  uprooted 
plants  and  the  naked  trunks  of  trees. 

Lubimoff  nodded  to  certain  persons,  who  looked  at  him 
with  a  sort  of  cordial  surprise,  as  though  they  were  look- 
ing at  a  dead  man  brought  to  life.  An  old  man,  with  a 
short  bristling  beard  on  a  face  pale  as  a  corpse,  bowed 
deeply  as  he  passed,  without  seeming  in  his  humility  to 
be  offended  at  not  receiving  an  acknowledgment.  He 
was  the  man  most  sought  after  and  coaxed  by  the  women 
who  frequented  the  Casino.  He  wore  a  sort  of  black  cap 
like  that  of  a  priest,  and  carried  a  hat  in  one  hand.  On 
his  coat  lapel  was  a  medal  of  enamel  work  with  the 
Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  Atilio  and  Lewis  had  also  sought 
him  frequently.  Michael  was  sure  that  this  man  was  a 
friend  of  the  Duchess  de  Delille  and  that  on  more  than 
one  occasion  he  had  seen  her  tears.    He  loaned  money  at 


238  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

5  per  cent  (for  every  24  hours),  and  spent  the  time, 
he  was  not  busy,  watching  new  arrivals  from  a  distance 
to  see  if  they  might  turn  out  to  be  new  clients. 

The  Prince  received  smiles,  also  from  certain  re- 
spectable looking  women  who  were  by  no  means  ugly, 
though  they  were  stout  in  some  parts  of  their  body  and 
slender  in  others,  like  persons  who  have  taken  a  course 
to  reduce  flesh  without  obtaining  a  uniform  result.  They 
were  seated  on  the  divans  in  the  corners,  talking  among 
themselves,  and  watching  the  groups  of  gamblers,  with 
the  air  of  employees  resting  after  having  done  their  duty. 
They  had  come  to  Monte  Carlo  many  years  ago  with 
jewels,  with  thousands  of  francs,  and  men  who  en- 
dured all  the  unevenness  of  their  tempers  and  in  addition 
gave  them  money.  And  everything  had  vanished  on  the 
Casino  tables.  But  they  went  on  clinging  to  the  reef  on 
which  they  had  been  wrecked — perhaps  beyond  salvation, 
living  on  the  jettison  of  many  another  who  had  followed 
the  same  route,  only  to  be  dashed  on  the  same  rocks  and 
perish.  They  offered  their  services  to  strangers  as  per- 
sons acquainted  with  the  mysteries  of  the  house,  advising 
honey-moon  couples  what  number  they  should  play,  as 
though  they  knew  the  secret.  Besides  they  came  to  the 
Casino  at  the  opening  hour  to  get  the  best  places  at  the 
tables  and  later  give  up  their  chairs  to  wealthy  players, 
steady  clients,  who  rewarded  them  generously  if  luck 
favored  them. 

He  met  still  others  also.  A  number  of  women  passed 
close  to  him.  They  were  old,  but  of  an  age  incapable 
yet  of  frankly  facing  the  free  air  and  the  open  sunlight. 
Their  appearance  of  antiquity  was  accentuated  by  their 
strange  apparel,  which  recalled  no  particular  style — 
dresses  of  bright  colors  that  had  faded,  and  which 
seemed  to  have  been  cut  from  old  curtains,  and  smelled 
like  a  musty  old  house ; — and  monumental  hats  or  spher- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  239 

ical  turbans  made  of  mosquito  netting.  Some  were  thin 
as  skeletons;  others  were  mountains  of  Hving  fat;  but 
all  of  them  were  painted  scandalously  with  vermilion 
and  had  blue  rings  around  their  lightless  eyes. 

"A  louts.  Prince,"  murmured  the  most  daring.  "I  am 
sure  that  you  will  bring  me  luck."  As  she  spoke,  her 
false  teeth,  too  large  for  her  g^ms,  rattled;  a  stench  of 
the  grave  accompanied  the  smile  on  the  painted  lips, 

Michael  knew  who  they  were,  from  Toledo's  tales. 
The  Colonel,  as  an  admirer  of  fallen  royalty,  accepted 
their  conversation  with  melancholy  deference.  One  of 
them  had  been  a  sweetheart  of  Victor  Emanuel ;  another, 
who  was  older,  recalled,  with  sighs,  the  days  of  Napoleon 
III,  and  of  Momy. 

They  had  come  to  die  in  Monte  Carlo,  the  last  spot 
on  earth  able  to  remind  them  of  the  splendors  of  sixty 
years  before ;  some  of  them,  in  memory  of  their  vanished 
jewels,  clamly  displayed  brass  ornaments  and  beads  of 
glass.  According  to  a  paradox  of  Castro's,  they  had  died 
many  years  before,  spending  the  night  in  the  Monaco 
Cemetery  dressing  themselves  with  the  spoils  from  other 
corpses  and  coming  to  the  Casino  from  force  of  habit 
to  contemplate  once  more  the  scenes  of  their  remote 
youth.  The  Prince  gave  them  a  few  bank  notes  and 
went  out,  while  they  ran  to  gamble  this  money,  after 
having  thanked  him  for  the  gift,  with  a  death-head  grin 
that  was  the  last  remnant  of  their  former  professional 
charm. 

Suddenly  Michael  stopped,  observing  the  various  para- 
sites who  lived  by  clinging  to  the  gearing  of  the  terrible 
machine  and  feeding  on  the  crumbs  it  pulverized.  He 
became  interested  in  the  crowd  which  was  always  ap- 
parently the  same,  though  always  with  distinct  individ- 
uals. There  were  some  who  walked  along  leaning  on 
canes,  invalids'  canes  tipped  with  rubber — the  only  kind 


240  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

allowed  in  the  gaming  room  for  fear  of  quarrels.  He 
noticed  flaccid  old  women  slowly  hobbling  along,  para- 
lytic gentlemen  leaning  on  the  arm  of  tall,  robust  fel- 
lows in  braided  uniforms  who  led  them  in  a  fatherly 
fashion  toward  the  roulette  wheels  and  eased  them  into 
their  chairs.  A  few  paralytics  arrived  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairway  in  little  carriages  like  children's  carts,  and 
thence  were  carried  on  hand  chairs  through  the  rooms 
to  their  favorite  spot.  At  certain  moments  it  seemed 
as  though  the  gambling  hall  were  a  famous  health  re- 
sort, or  a  place  of  miracles,  like  Lourdes.  They  came 
just  as  incurable  invalids  come  to  other  places,  impelled 
by  a  last  hope;  but  in  this  case  the  hope  was  not  for 
health.  That  was  the  least  of  their  cares.  What  gal- 
vanized them  here  was  the  hope  of  fortune,  and  dreams 
of  wealth,  as  if  riches  would  be  of  any  service  to  these 
poor  bodies  lacking  all  the  appetites  which  make  life 
pleasant. 

Mentally  the  Prince  summed  up  all  human  passions  in 
two  pleasures  which  are  the  springs  of  all  action — love 
and  gambling.  There  were  people  who  experienced 
equally  the  attraction  of  them  both — Castro,  for  example. 
He  himself  had  been  interested  only  in  love  and  could 
not  understand  the  pleasures  of  gambling.  Whenever  he 
had  gotten  up  from  the  gaming  tables,  each  time  with 
winnings,  he  had  never  felt  any  temptation  to  return.  But 
looking  at  these  ailing  people,  some  of  them  very  aged, 
at  those  incurables,  all  of  them  dragging  themselves 
toward  the  roulette  wheel  as  though  toward  a  miraculous 
bath,  he  condoned  them  pityingly.  What  other  pleasure 
was  there  left  for  them  on  earth?  How  could  they  fill 
the  emptiness  of  their  lives  prolonged  so  tenaciously? 

What  he  could  not  understand  was  the  intense  attitude, 
the  hard  faces,  of  the  other  gamblers  who  were  healthy 
and  strong.   Young  men  moved  among  the  women  around 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  241 

the  tables  with  hostile  brusqueness,  quarrelling  with  them 
harshly  and  treating  them  like  enemies.  Women  sud- 
denly lost  their  grace  and  freshness,  becoming  masculine 
all  at  once  as  they  looked  at  the  rows  of  cards  of  trente  et 
gttarante  or  at  the  mad  whirl  of  the  colored  wheel.  Their 
gestures  were  those  of  prize  fighters.  Their  mouths 
were  drawn.  There  was  a  look  of  fierceness  in  their  eyes. 
As  though  warned  instinctively  of  this  transformation,  no 
sooner  did  they  tear  themselves  away  from  the  tables 
than  they  took  out  their  vanity  case — the  little  mirror, 
the  powder,  and  the  rouge — to  correct  or  efface  the  pass- 
ing ravages  of  the  play.  Those  of  more  dignified  and 
normal  appearance  showed  themselves  at  times  to  be  the 
most  reckless.  In  a  place  where  all  the  women  were 
doing  the  same  as  they,  gambling  had  something  official 
about  it,  something  worthy  of  respect;  it  was  possible 
for  them  to  indulge  in  a  vice  without  fear  of  gossip, 
without  the  risk  of  being  criticized. 

The  Prince  smiled  as  he  remembered  a  story  Toledo 
had  told  him  a  few  days  before :  the  despair  of  a  woman 
of  about  forty  who  came  from  Nice  with  her  two  daugh- 
ters every  afternoon,  and  had  finally  lost  fifty  thousand 
francs. 

"Oh!  If  I  had  only  taken  a  lover,"  the  mother  had 
groaned  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "It  would  have  been 
better  if  I  had  chosen  love." 

Michael  entered  the  other  rooms  that  had  no  sky- 
light. The  clusters  of  electric  bulbs  lighting  them  with 
senseless  splendor  made  him  think  of  the  burning  sun 
and  the  azure  sea  just  beyond  those  walls  of  gold  and 
jasper. 

Above  the  tables  were  oil  lamps  with  two  enormous 
shades  each  one  sheltering  four  fixtures  which  hung 
by  bronze  chains  several  yards  long,  attached  to  the 
ceiling.    Thus  if  the  electric  current  was  cut  off,  there 


242  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

was  no  danger  of  the  patrons  feeling  tempted  to  appro- 
priate the  money  on  the  tables. 

Occasionally  a  little  bell  would  sound,  rung  by  one 
of  the  employees  in  black  frock  coat  who  directed  the 
playing.  A  chip,  a  coin,  or  a  bank  note  had  fallen  under 
the  table.  Suddenly  with  the  promptness  of  a  scene 
shifter  waiting  behind  the  stage,  a  lackey  dressed  in  a 
blue  and  gold  uniform  appeared,  carrying  a  dark  lantern 
and  a  hook  to  rummage  about  among  the  players'  feet 
until  he  found  the  lost  object. 

The  discipline  observable  in  these  vast  rooms  was  like 
that  on  a  warship,  where  everything  is  in  its  place  and 
every  man  at  his  post.  In  order  to  make  sure  that 
everything  was  going  properly,  various  respectable  gentle- 
men with  decorations  on  their  coat  lapels,  walked  back 
and  forth  among  the  tables,  with  the  air  of  officers  on 
duty.  Whenever  voices  were  raised,  these  men  appeared 
with  rapid  strides,  to  cut  short  the  arguments  in  some 
tactful  manner.  When  two  gamblers  claimed  the  same 
bet,  they  immediately  settled  the  dispute  by  paying  both. 
The  money  would  finally  come  back  to  the  house  any 
way! 

According  to  Atilio,  the  Casino  was  honeycombed  in 
all  directions  with  secret  galleries,  hidden  openings  and 
even  trap  doors,  like  the  stage  for  a  comedy  of  magic — 
all  these  for  the  sake  of  immediate  service,  and  to  avoid 
any  annoyance  to  the  patrons. 

Sometimes  the  invalid  fainted  9t  the  table  or  fell  dead 
through  too  violent  emotion.  Immediately  the  wall  would 
open  and  eject  two  attendants  with  a  stretcher  who  would 
cause  the  troublesome  body  to  disappear  as  though  by 
enchantment.  Those  at  the  adjoining  table  would  scarce- 
ly have  a  chance  to  be  aware  of  it. 

At  other  times  it  would  be  a  suicide.  Lubimoff  knew 
a  table  called  the  Suicide  Table,  because  an  Englishman 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  243 

had  killed  himself  there  in  melodramatic  fashion,  shoot- 
ing himself  with  a  pistol  when  he  had  lost  his  last  penny. 
His  brains  had  been  scattered  in  shreds  on  the  green 
baize  and  on  the  faces  of  his  neighbors,  and  even  on 
the  frock  coats  of  the  croupiers.  There  are  always  peo- 
ple who  have  no  tact,  and  who  do  not  know  how  to 
behave  in  good  society!  But  the  attendants  emerged 
from  the  wall,  carried  away  the  corpse,  and  cleaned  the 
blood  from  the  carpet  and  table. 

Shortly  afterwards,  from  the  oval  of  people  crowding 
against  the  green  table,  the  consecrated  words  arose: 
"Fcdtes  vos  jeux.  .  .  .  Vos  jeux  sont  ftntsf  .  .  .  Rien 
ne  va  pins." 

The  Prince  recalled  the  famous  suicide  bench  in  the 
gardens  of  the  Casino.  It  was  all  a  mazagine  yarn.  No 
such  bench  had  ever  existed.  When  several  persons 
killed  themselves  on  the  same  bench,  the  administration 
had  its  position  changed  immediately !  Besides,  the  num- 
ber of  suicides  was  much  exaggerated.  There  were  two 
or  three  each  year,  no  more.  According  to  Castro,  it 
was  no  longer  the  fad  to  kill  one's  self  at  Monte  Carlo. 
It  showed  an  unpardonable  lack  of  taste.  The  proper 
thing  to  do  was  to  go  a  long  way  off  and  disappear 
without  making  any  commotion. 

Besides  the  house  police  were  quick  to  detect  those 
who  were  in  despair.  Such  people  received  a  railway 
ticket  at  once  and  they  were  advised  to  kill  themselves, 
like  good  fellows,  in  Marseilles,  or  if  not  so  far  away, 
at  least  in  Nice  or  Menton. 

Michael  was  near  the  "Suicide  Table"  close  to  the 
entrance  to  the  private  rooms,  when  he  noticed  a  certain 
commotion  in  the  crowd.  Groups  were  seeking  one  an- 
other to  exchange  news.  The  old  patrons  were  moved 
by  professional  feeling.  Something  important  was  going 
on.     The  Prince  knew   the  meaning  of  these  sudden 


244  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

bursts  of  curiosity:  a  player  was  winning  or  losing  in 
remarkable  fashion. 

He  heard  indistinctly  a  name  that  brought  him  to 
attention. 

"The  Duchess  de  Delille — ^two  hundred  thousand 
francs !" 

All  those  who  had  permission  to  play  in  the  private 
rooms  hurried  toward  the  large  glass  door  which  gave 
access  to  them.     Michael  followed  this  living  current! 

He  found  himself  in  an  enormous  hall  with  a  lofty 
ceiling.  On  one  side  four  large  balconies  opened  out 
on  the  terraces,  and  the  Mediterranean.  Because  of  the 
war  they  were  covered  with  dark  curtains  to  hide  the 
light  from  within.  The  wall  opposite  was  adorned  with 
various  gigantic  mirrors.  On  the  ceiling  seventeen  white, 
full-breasted  caryatids,  bending  under  the  weight  of  the 
roof,  supported  the  wide  bands  of  rock  crystal,  with 
electrical  bulbs,  which  shed  a  sort  of  moonlight. 

Those  whom  curiosity  had  attracted,  passed  the  first 
gaming  tables  with  an  air  of  indifference.  Everybody 
was  crowding  around  the  last,  the  "treiite  et  quarante," 
at  the  foot  of  a  large  picture,  in  which  three  buxom 
lasses  in  the  nude  against  a  background  of  dark  trees 
like  those  in  the  Boboli  Gardens,  represented  the  Flor- 
entine Graces. 

The  great  phenomenon  was  taking  place  there.  Craning 
his  neck  above  the  shoulders  of  two  sightseers,  Michael 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Alicia  seated  at  the  table  with  an 
anxious  expression  on  her  face.  All  eyes  were  upon  her. 
In  front  of  her,  were  heaps  of  bank  notes  and  many 
columns  of  chips.  There  were  the  five  hundred  franc 
ovals,  and  the  one  thousand  franc  squares,  "little  cakes 
of  soap"  as  they  call  the  latter,  in  the  language  of  the 
Casino. 

Suddenly  she  raised  her  head  as  though  realizing  in- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  245 

stinctively  the  presence  of  some  one  interesting  to  her. 
And  her  eyes  fell  straight  on  Michael.  She  greeted  him 
with  a  happy  smile.  There  was  the  suggestion  of  a  kiss 
in  her  glance.  And  all  the  people  there,  with  the  sub- 
mission of  a  mob  when  dominated  by  enthusiasm  or 
amazement,  followed  her  eyes  to  see  who  the  man  was 
whom  the  heroine  was  greeting  in  this  manner.  The 
vanity  of  the  Prince  was  flattered,  as  it  used  to  be  when 
some  celebrated  actress  greeted  him  from  the  stage  and 
went  on  singing  with  her  eyes  fastened  upon  him  to 
dedicate  to  him  her  trills.  Once,  when  he  was  a  boy, 
a  bull-fighter  had  bowed  to  him  in  a  friendly  way  before 
giving  the  final  death  thrust  in  the  arena.  Alicia  seemed 
to  be  choosing  him  as  her  god  of  luck. 

But  immediately  she  fell  back  into  the  deep  absorption 
of  the  play.  She  was  not  alone.  An  invisible  and  power- 
ful person  was  standing  behind  her  chair,  bending  over 
her  to  whisper  in  her  ear  some  word  of  unfailing  counsel, 
to  suggest  some  unlooked  for  resolution,  some  original 
and  daring  idea.  Her  eyes,  lighted  by  a  mysterious  fire, 
were  gazing  on  something  that  no  one  else  could  see. 
Her  mute  lips  trembled  with  nervous  contractions,  as 
though  she  were  talking  with  some  one  who  did  not 
need  sound  to  be  able  to  hear.  Michael  felt  there  was 
a  demon-like  power  beside  her,  the  inspiration  of  the 
unforgettable  hours  which  reveal  to  artists  a  masterful 
harmony,  an  illuminating  word,  or  a  supreme  stroke  of 
the  brush ;  the  inspiration  which  prompts  the  final  slaugh- 
ter in  battle  or  the  decisive  move  in  some  business  ven- 
ture, that  means  either  millions  or  suicide. 

She  had  begun  to  plunge.  Her  hand  carelessly  pushed 
forward  a  column  of  twelve  rectangular  chips,  with  an 
extra  oval  one :  twelve  thousand  five  hundred  francs,  the 
maximum  amount  that  could  be  risked  in  "trente  et 
qttarante,'*    The  crowd,  with  the  idolatry  which  victors 


246  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

inspire,  was  hoping  for  the  Duchess,  as  though  each  one 
expected  to  share  in  her  winning.  They  all  knew  she 
was  going  to  win.  And  when  as  a  matter  of  fact  she 
did  win,  there  was  a  murmur  of  satisfaction,  a  sigh  of 
relief  from  that  oval  of  sightseers  pressing  against  the 
backs  of  the  chairs  occupied  by  the  players.  From  time 
to  time  she  lost,  and  profound  silence  expressed  their 
sympathy.  Sometimes  after  advancing  a  column  of 
chips,  she  closed  her  eyes  as  though  listening  to  some 
one  who  remained  invisible,  and  moving  her  head  in 
sign  of  assent,  withdrew  the  stakes.  Once  more  there 
arose  a  murmur  of  satisfaction,  when  the  public  saw 
that  she  had  withdrawn  her  money  just  in  time,  and  had 
scored,  as  it  were,  a  negative  triumph. 

Many  of  them  computed  with  greedy  eyes  the  sums 
amassed  in  front  of  her. 

"She's  in  the  three  hundred  thousands  already — per- 
haps she  has  more — Oh!  if  she  would  only  succeed  in 
making  it  millions !  What  fun  it  would  be  to  see  her  break 
the  bank!" 

To  these  comments  spoken  in  low  tones  were  added 
the  laudatory  exclamations  of  a  few  elderly  women  who 
looked  at  the  conqueror  with  adoring  eyes.  "How  nice 
she  is! — a  great  lady  and  so  beautiful! — Good  luck  to 
her!" 

A  dark  shoulder  over  which  the  Prince  was  looking 
moved  and  the  Prince  saw  Spadoni's  face  close  to  his. 
The  pianist  did  not  show  the  slightest  surprise ;  as  though 
they  had  separated  only  a  few  minutes  before.  He  did 
not  even  greet  Michael.  The  astonishment  which  caused 
the  pupils  of  his  eyes  to  dilate,  the  indigation  and  envy 
that  this  insolent  fortune  inspired,  made  it  necessary  for 
the  pianist  to  express  his  feelings  in  a  protest. 

"Have  you  noticed,  Highness — she  doesn't  know  how 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  247 

to  play — she  goes  against  all  rules,  all  logic.    She  doesn't 
know  the  first  thing  about  it,  not  the  first  thing!" 

Immediately  his  eyes  returned  to  the  table,  forgetting 
the  Prince  on  hearing  once  more  a  stifled  outburst  from 
the  crowd.  A  little  more  and  some  of  the  people  would 
be  applauding  the  repeated  triumphs  of  the  Duchess. 
Those  who  had  lost  during  the  previous  days,  were  re- 
joicing with  the  joy  of  vengeance.  "What  an  evening! 
You  don't  see  this  every  day."  They  smiled  and  nudged 
each  other  as  they  noticed  the  coming  and  going  of  the 
inspectors,  the  presence  of  high  officials  who  strove  to 
hide  their  concern,  the  long  faces  of  attendants  as  they 
returned  from  the  head  cashier  with  new  packages  of 
one  thousand  franc  chips  to  pay  this  lady  who  had  swept 
the  table  bare  of  money  three  times.  The  news  of  her 
extraordinary  run  of  luck  circulated  throughout  the  entire 
edifice.  At  that  moment  the  gentlemen  of  the  manage- 
ment must  have  been  discussing  in  their  offices  on  the  top 
floor  the  bad  trick  that  chance  had  dared  to  play  them. 
A  mood  of  anticipation  and  excitement,  akin  to  the 
whispering  of  a  revolution,  spread  through  every  nook 
and  cranny.  Those  who  had  no  tickets  for  the  private 
rooms  asked  for  news  from  those  who  were  coming  out, 
repeating  what  they  had  heard  with  exaggeration  bom 
of  enthusiasm.  In  the  wardrobe,  in  the  lavatories,  in 
the  inner  corridors,  in  all  the  subterranean  and  winding 
passageways  where  the  servants,  maids  and  firemen  lived 
under  an  eternal  electric  light,  this  news  shook  the  sleepy 
calm  of  the  humbler  employees.  The  atmosphere  of  ex- 
citement was  similar  to  that  which  circulates  through  the 
half  deserted  corridors  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  while 
in  the  semi-circle  teeming  with  emotion,  a  Prime  Min- 
ister is  fighting  to  survive  a  crisis.  The  news  gathered 
momentum  as  it  passed  from  group  to  group  with  that 


248  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

satisfaction  mingled  with  uneasiness  which  is  inspired  in 
employees  by  the  reverses  of  their  employers. 

"It  seems  that  upstairs  a  Duchess  is  winning  a  million 
— ^no:  now  they  say  it  is  two  millions." 

And  by  the  time  the  news  had  circulated  throughout 
the  entire  building,  the  two  millions  had  married  and 
given  birth  to  another.  Half  an  hour  later  they  were 
four  millions,  according  to  the  lesser  servants,  who  had 
grown  old  living  off  gambling  without  ever  seeing  it  at 
first  hand. 

Michael  suddenly  felt  a  great  wave  of  anger  against 
the  fortunate  woman.  Since  her  smile  of  greeting  she 
had  not  looked  at  him  again.  Several  times  her  eyes 
had  glanced  mechanically  in  his  direction,  without  taking 
any  notice  of  him.  He  was  merely  one  of  the  many 
curious  spectators  witnessing  her  triumph.  At  that  mo- 
ment there  were  only  two  things  in  the  world,  the  pack 
of  cards  and  herself. 

Her  indifference  caused  him  to  feel  the  indignation 
of  the  moralist.  It  did  not  make  any  difference  to  him 
that  Alicia  was  forgetting  him.  He  repeated  this  to 
himself  several  times :  no,  he  did  not  care  about  that. 
They  were  not  lovers,  nor  was  there  any  deep  affection 
between  them.  But  how  about  her  son !  He  remembered 
that  morning  a  scene  with  her  tears  and  despair.  And 
the  mother  was  there  abandoning  herself  completely  to 
the  pleasures  of  chance  and  with  no  feeling  for  anything 
except  her  perverted  passion. 

If  some  one  had  spoken  to  her  about  the  aviator  who 
was  a  prisoner,  she  would  have  had  to  make  an  effort 
to  recall  his  existence.  And  a  xcw  hours  before  she  had 
wept  sincerely  on  thinking  of  his  imprisonment! 

This  was  too  much  for  the  Prince.  His  sense  of  dignity 
could  not  accept  this  thoughtlessness !  He  elbowed  his 
way  through  a  crowd  of  onlookers,  after  freeing  himself 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  249 

from  Spadoni's  shoulder,  while  the  latter  as  though 
hypnotized,  remained  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ever- 
increasing  treasure  of  the  Duchess. 

Lubimoff  began  to  pace  the  drawing  room.  He  scorned 
Alicia's  self-absorption,  but  lacked  the  strength  to  go 
away.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  be  near  her,  perhaps 
in  order  to  see  just  how  far  her  slight  of  him  would  go. 

He  came  across  a  gentleman  who  was  walking  about 
among  the  tables,  beating  his  hands  behind  his  back  and 
muttering  unintelligible  words.    It  was  his  friend  Lewis. 

"Have  you  seen  how  she  plays,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of 
anger,  as  he  recognized  the  Prince;  "like  a  fool,  like  a 
regular  fool !    They  ought  not  to  allow  women  in  here." 

All  afternoon  he  had  been  losing  according  to  rule  and 
experience.  He  did  not  have  enough  money  left  even 
for  his  whiskies  and  had  had  to  charge  them  at  the  bar. 
But  suddenly  he  remembered  that  the  Duchess  was  a 
relative  of  Lubimoff. 

"I  am  sorry  if  I  offended  you,  but  she  plays  like  an 
idiot." 

And  he  turned  his  back  to  continue  his  furious  mono- 
logue. 

Don  Marcos  passing  in  a  hurry  without  seeing  the 
Prince  opened  a  path  in  the  crowd  of  onlookers  with  all 
the  authority  of  a  dressy  personage.  He  had  just  left 
the  gardener's  daughter  in  haste.  The  news  had  crept 
through  the  theater  causing  many  of  the  spectators  to 
give  up  seeing  the  close  of  the  opera  in  order  to  be 
present  at  this  unheard  of  run  of  luck,  which  was  for 
them  a  spectacle  of  the  greatest  interest. 

At  one  of  the  roulette  tables  he  saw  Clorinda  who  was 
playing  cautiously,  with  Castro  standing  behind  her 
chair. 

"The  General"  had  witnessed  the  first  part  of  her 
friend's  triumph.    "She's  going  to  lose :  this  cannot  last," 


250  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

she  thought  each  time.  Then  she  had  moved  away  from 
the  table,  explaining  her  attitude  to  Castro  and  other 
friends.  It  was  impossible  for  her  to  watch  Alicia  tran- 
quilly as  she  risked  such  heavy  stakes.  It  was  more 
excitement  than  she  could  endure. 

"I  hope  she  wins  a  great  deal,  a  great  deal,  indeed," 
she  added  with  the  generosity  of  a  friend.  "Poor  Alicia, 
she  needs  it  so  much !    Her  affairs  are  going  so  badly !" 

She  had  just  seated  herself  at  another  table  with  the 
faint  hope  that  luck  would  remember  her,  too;  but  the 
murmurings  which  reached  her  from  the  trente  et  quar- 
ante  table,  announcing  the  news  of  fresh  victories,  made 
her  nervous  and  she  attributed  the  loss  of  several  twenty 
franc  pieces  to  this  cause.  When  she  found  she  had  lost 
two  hundred,  she  felt  that  she  must  take  her  spite  out 
on  some  one.  Atilio,  who  followed  her  everywhere,  was 
standing  there,  greeting  her  expressions  of  bad  humor 
with  an  adoring  smile. 

"Castro,  go  away;  don't  stand  there  behind  me.  You 
must  know  you  bring  me  bad  luck.  Go  somewhere 
else." 

The  Prince  observed  how  his  friend,  with  a  look  of 
annoyance,  left  the  widow  and  walked  toward  the  door. 

He  thought  he  would  follow  him.  By  talking  with 
Atilio,  he  might  forget  the  irritation  which  the  other 
woman  had  caused  him ;  but  as  he  went  toward  the  end 
of  the  room  he  had  a  new  surprise. 

In  one  of  the  dimly  lighted  comers  he  saw  Novoa, 
who  was  going  to  spend  the  afternoon  in  Monaco  or  take 
a  walk  on  the  Nice  Road.  Perhaps  the  latter  was  true. 
He  might  have  been  waiting  for  Valeria  who  was  coming 
back  from  her  luncheon  party.  They  must  have  both 
been  there  for  a  long  time,  in  the  dark  comer,  unaware 
of  what  was  going  on  about  them  and  deaf  to  people's 
comments. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  251 

The  scientist,  with  his  back  turned,  was  unable  to  see 
the  Prince.  As  for  the  lady,  her  eyes  were  fixed  on 
Novoa  with  the  affectionate  seriousness  of  a  girl  who 
has  taken  advanced  studies,  has  the  bachelor's  degree, 
and  is  able  to  understand  a  man  of  science.  Michael 
heard  a  snatch  of  the  young  professor's  conversation. 

"And  when  the  glacial  currents  from  the  pole  reach 
that  spot  they  take  the  place  of  the  warm  waters  that 
rise  to  the  surface.  .  ,  ." 

He  was  explaining  the  formation  of  the  Gulf  Stream. 

No  one  could  have  guessed  it  from  observing  the 
caressing  and  timidly  amorous  glances  behind  his  glasses. 

She  was  listening  with  admiring  fervor,  but  Michael, 
who  knew  women,  imagined  he  guessed  her  real  thoughts. 
She  was  weighing,  with  the  cunning  of  a  poor  girl  alone 
in  the  world,  the  possibilities  of  this  man  as  a  husband. 
He  was  ignorant  of  everything  not  to  be  learned  in 
books,  and  she  was  calculating  the  modifications  neces- 
sary to  improve  the  person  of  this  careless  male  who 
always  wore  a  necktie  badly  tied,  and  never  pulled  up  his 
trousers  before  sitting  down,  to  keep  them  from  bagging 
in  a  grotesque  manner. 

Lubimoff  spent  more  than  an  hour  deeply  sunk  in  an 
armchair  in  the  bar,  listening  to  Castro.  The  branches 
of  the  large  trees  on  the  terrace  wove  soft  shadows 
like  spider  webs  on  the  window  panes  in  the  twilight  dusk. 

Atilio  was  giving  vent  to  his  melancholy  by  lamenting 
the  meagerness  of  the  afternoon  tea.  On  account  of  the 
war,  burnt  almonds  and  potato  chips  were  the  only  gas- 
tronomic delicacies  to  be  offered,  in  this  place  frequented 
by  the  wealthy. 

The  crowd  roused  in  him  the  same  sad  reflections. 
There  were  people  there,  but  very  few  compared  with 
the  numbers  that  flocked  to  Monte  Carlo  some  years 
before.     Then  they  came  in  limited  trains  direct  from 


252  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Vienna,  Berlin,  and  the  farthest  parts  of  Europe.  The 
square  in  front  of  the  Casino  was  a  second  Babel.  Around 
the  "Cheese,"  people  of  all  races  walked  up  and  down, 
speaking  every  known  language.  At  present  the  ab- 
sence of  the  Russians,  who  were  spirited  gamblers,  was 
to  be  lamented,  and  likewise  the  absence  of  the  Austrians 
and  the  Turks.  The  last  persons  to  be  attracted  by 
Monte  Carlo  were  the  Germans,  but  Castro  had  seen 
them  come  in  great  numbers  during  the  past  few  years, 
applying  to  gambling  the  same  quiet  minutely  scientific 
thoroughness  of  method  they  used  in  military  discipline, 
the  organization  of  industries,  and  laboratory  work. 

He  was  always  able  to  recognize  them  as  soon  as  they 
entered  the  rooms.  When  they  sat  down  at  the  table 
they  surrounded  themselves  with  books  and  papers :  sta- 
tistics of  the  most  favored  numbers  of  past  years, 
manuals  on  how  to  gamble,  their  own  calculations  and 
logarithms  that  only  they  themselves  could  understand. 

"They  held  on  to  their  money  more  tenaciously  than 
the  rest,"  Atilio  continued.  "They  were  as  patient  and 
tireless  as  stubborn  oxen;  but  they  lost  in  the  end  like 
every  one  else.  Who  doesn't  lose  here — even  the  Casino, 
that  always  wins,  is  losing  now.  Before  the  war  it 
brought  in  an  income  of  forty  million  francs  a  year.  At 
the  present  time  it  clears  not  more  than  three  or  four 
millions  and  since  enormous  expenses  have  to  be  covered, 
it  has  had  to  ask  for  loans  to  go  on  living,  the  same  as 
a  State." 

Michael  observed  those  who  were  passing  through  the 
bar.    There  was  only  one  man  for  every  ten  women. 

"That's  the  war,  too,"  said  Castro.  "You  can  see 
women,  women  everywhere!  Before  the  war,  if  you 
recall,  even  in  peace  times,  the  proportion  of  women 
was  always  larger.  There  are  fewer  men  but  they  play 
higher  stakes.    They  risk  their  money  with  more  daring; 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  253 

three- fourths  of  the  crowd  around  the  tables  were  com- 
posed of  women.  When  women  are  afraid  of  love,  or 
disillusioned  by  it,  they  give  themselves  up  to  gambling 
with  passionate  intensity.  It  is  the  only  means  they  can 
find  to  express  their  imagination.  Besides,  when  one 
takes  into  account  their  love  of  luxury,  which  is  never 
proportionate  to  their  means,  and  considers  the  needs 
of  present  day  women  which  were  unknown  to  their 
grandmothers  .  .  .  Look — look  over  there."  He  pointed 
discreetly  to  a  lady  advanced  in  years,  modestly  dressed 
and  with  a  face  that  was  daubed  with  rouge,  who  was 
being  approached  with  supplicating  looks  and  gestures 
by  two  other  young  and  elegantly  dressed  ladies.  It  was 
easy  to  guess  that  they  had  come  in  there  purely  for  the 
sake  of  discussing  some  business  affair,  away  from  the 
prying  eyes  in  the  gambling  rooms. 

"They  are  asking  for  a  loan  and  she  is  refusing," 
Castro  continued.  "Perhaps  it  is  the  second  or  third 
time  in  the  afternoon.  This  lady  is  a  rival  of  the  old 
man  who  wears  the  Sacred  Heart  on  his  lapel.  He  is 
quite  a  character,  that  old  usurer !  He  began  as  a  waiter 
in  a  cafe  and  must  have  some  two  millions  now  after 
thirty  years  of  honorable  toil.  Everything  he  owns  is 
to  be  given  to  the  village  of  La  Turbie,  which  has  named 
him  its  benefactor.     He  pays  for  images  of  Saints  and 

has  rebuilt  the  church .    Notice :  the  lady  is  softening. 

They  are  going  to  get  the  loan." 

The  three  women  had  disappeared  through  the  ma- 
hogany door  leading  to  the  women's  lavatories.  As  the 
loan  agent  kept  her  funds  in  her  petticoats,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  her  to  pull  up  her  skirts  to  carry  on  her  nego- 
tiations. Shortly  after  she  came  out  and  walked  rapidly 
in  the  direction  of  the  gambling  room.  She  had  to  go 
on  watching  several  women  to  whom  she  had  loaned 
money,  to  see  if  they  were  winning.     The  two  young 


254  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

women  followed  her  with  their  purses  still  open,  hurriedly 
counting  the  bank  notes  they  had  just  received. 

Castro,  who  had  suffered  the  humiliation  of  similar 
operations  more  than  once,  began  bitterly  to  attack  the 
vice  which  maintained  this  enormous  edifice  and  the 
whole  Principality. 

He  played  to  win,  played  because  he  was  poor;  but 
so  many  rich  people  came  there  and  risked  the  founda- 
tions of  their  well  being! 

"Gambling  is  a  functioning  of  the  imagination.  That 
is  why  you  must  have  noticed  that  men  with  real  imagi- 
nation, writers,  and  true  artists,  seldom  gamble.  Many 
of  them  have  caused  great  scandals  by  their  extraordinary 
vices,  reaching  the  point  of  monstrosity.  But  none  of 
them  have  ever  distinguished  themselves  as  gamblers. 
They  have  other  more  exciting  subjects  to  which  they 
may  apply  their  imaginative  powers.  On  the  other  hand 
the  great  mass  of  human  beings  feel  the  charm  of 
gambling  and  the  more  commonplace  the  individual,  the 
more  strongly  is  he  attracted  by  the  fascination  of  chance. 
Our  acts  are  guided  by  the  desire  of  obtaining  the  maxi- 
mum of  pleasure  with  a  minimum  of  pain  and  effort; 
and  you  cannot  obtain  this  better  than  by  gambling.  We 
all  obey  our  hopes  that  do  what  seems  most  advantageous. 
We  like  to  exaggerate  the  probability  that  what  we  most 
earnestly  want  to  happen  will  occur,  and  we  end  by  taking 
our  desires  for  reality.  Every  day  those  who  come  in 
here  have  a  feeling  of  certainty  that  they  will  come  away 
taking  a  thousand,  twenty  thousand,  or  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  with  them,  and,  as  a  matter  of  cold  fact, 
they  come  away  with  empty  pockets.  It  doesn't  make 
any  difference,  they  will  come  back  the  next  day,  guided 
by  the  same  illusions." 

He  stopped  talking  as  though  depressed  by  the  thought 
that  he  was  painting  his  own  picture.    Then  he  added : 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  255 

"What  is  the  difference  ?  Without  these  illusions,  which 
gently  stimulate  the  imagination,  life  would  overwhelm 
us.  It  is  perhaps  fortunate  for  us  that  our  hopes  are 
not  mathematically  exact,  that  our  destiny  is  largely 
shaped  by  luck.  Besides,  life  is  short.  The  future  is 
uncertain;  if  fortune  is  to  be  ours,  should  we  not  pre- 
pare the  way  so  that  it  may  come  swiftly?  And  what 
better  way  than  that  of  gambling?  When  we  put  our 
hope  in  some  far-off  future  time,  it  is  not  worth  much. 
If  we  are  to  win,  let  it  be  soon  and  once  for  all.  Our 
life  is  nothing  more  than  a  game  of  chance.  We  are 
gamblers  all,  even  those  of  us  who  have  never  touched 
a  card.  Professions,  business,  and  love  itself  are  pure 
gambles,  pure  luck,  a  matter  of  chance.  Cleverness  and 
intelligence  may  cause  our  life  games  to  turn  out  favor- 
ably, but  chance  still  retains  its  hold  on  us,  and  the  luck 
of  an  individual  is  what  is  most  important.  To  become 
rich,  even  in  the  most  stable  business  enterprises,  one 
must  be  favored  by  a  combination  of  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances, a  continual  run  of  luck.  A  man  never  has 
become  rich  or  celebrated  merely  on  his  own  merits." 

Lubimoff,  one  of  the  world's  great  millionaires  a  few 
years  before,  nodded  his  head  at  this  statement. 

"Even  Governments  keep  up  the  habit  of  hope  in  the 
public  by  recourse  to  chance,"  continued  Castro.  "There 
are  very  few  that  do  not  authorize  a  lottery.  A  person 
who  takes  a  ticket,  buys  a  little  hope  and  the  possibility, 
if  he  has  any  imagination,  of  building  for  a  few  days 
every  kind  of  wonderful  dream,  and  feeling  deeply 
stirred  at  the  time  of  the  drawing.  The  betterment  of 
our  material  well-being  by  means  of  our  own  efforts  is 
a  laborious  and  difficult  task ;  but  there  is  a  way  to  give 
the  humble  a  certain  relative  happiness:  by  giving  them 
hopes  of  becoming  rich,  of  freeing  themselves  from  every 
kind  of  servitude,  and  of  realizing  the  ideal  of  freedom 


2S6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

to  which  they  aspire.  As  a  matter  of  principle  the  State 
shows  itself  an  enemy  of  games  of  chance;  and  con- 
siders them  immoral  because  they  are  based  on  what  is 
uncertain;  but  all  classes  of  commercial,  financial,  and 
industrial  operations  represent  chance  and  oftentimes 
the  ruin  of  one  or  two  parties.  They  are  all  games 
quite  similar  to  the  gambling  that  goes  on  here."  Atilio 
smiled  ironically  before  continuing. 

"Let  the  moralists  talk  against  gambling  until  they 
are  weary.  This  much  is  certain.  The  sums  that  are 
played  on  horse  races  and  in  the  Casino  increase  each 
year  with  rapid  progression,  more  rapidly  in  fact  than 
public  wealth.  The  general  improvement  in  ways  of 
living  which  is  developing,  exerts  no  influence  toward 
decreasing  gambling.  On  the  other  hand,  the  com- 
plexity of  modern  life,  with  the  increase  of  our  needs  and 
wants,  favors  this  passion,  and  even  aggravates  it." 

The  Prince  interrupted  him.  He  was  quite  right,  per- 
haps, in  what  he  was  saying,  but  what  a  degrading  vice 
gambling  was !  The  more  reasonable  people  allow  them- 
selves to  be  mastered  by  it  and  even  lose  their  ordinary 
intelligence. 

"That's  certain,"  confessed  Atilio.  "In  gambling  our 
human  weaknesses  and  the  tendency  which  we  all  have 
towards  superstitions  are  shown  most  clearly.  What 
madness.  .  .  .  Just  as  though  the  past  could  influence 
the  present !  How  many  useless  efforts  to  conquer  luck ! 
More  wealth  and  imagination  has  been  wasted  in  the  in- 
vention of  new  systems  in  gambling  than  in  the  attempt 
to  find  perpetual  motion — and  just  as  uselessly.  All 
these  wonderful  systems  lead  the  gambler  infallibly  to- 
ward ruin  with  more  or  less  rapidity,  but  always  with 
certainty.  And  how  strong  our  faith  is!  I  feel  that  it 
is  greater  than  that  of  religious  martyrs.  When  we 
think  we  have  a  combination  which  is  sure  to  win,  there 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  257 

is  no  use  trying  to  persuade  us  to  the  contrary.  Nothing 
can  convince  us.  It  is  curious  that  the  failure  of  his 
system  and  the  consequent  losses  never  discourage  a 
good  gambler.  He  immediately  seizes  upon  some  new 
combination,  a  true  one  this  time — which  will  enable  him 
to  make  a  fortune — one  hope  followed  by  another,  and 
thus  he  goes  on  living  until  death  overtakes  him." 

The  melancholy  of  these  last  few  words  was  brief. 
Castro  seemed  suddenly  to  recall  something  which  made 
him  smile. 

"How  many  inconsistencies  in  the  lives  of  gamblers! 
They  are  not  afraid  to  risk  their  money  and  there  is 
no  class  of  people  that  is  more  stingy.  Notice  the  wo- 
men who  play  most  passionately.  They  are  all  badly 
dressed;  some  of  them  are  often  careless  about  their 
persons.  They  must  have  money  to  gamble,  and  post- 
pone buying  necessities  until  the  next  day.  There  are 
men  who  carry  their  hats  in  their  arms  all  afternoon 
in  order  to  save  the  ten  cents  which  it  costs  to  leave 
them  in  the  vestibule  of  the  Casino.  To-day  when  I 
came  in  I  saw  an  elderly  gentleman  who  waits  for  a 
friend  every  day  standing  by  the  cloak  room  window. 
They  leave  their  hats  and  coats  together  and  that  way 
each  one  has  to  pay  only  five  cents.  Later  on,  at  the 
roulette  table,  I  saw  them  handling  rolls  of  thousand- 
franc  bills." 

From  the  tables  people  called  to  the  players  who  were 
entering  the  bar : 

*Ts  she  still  winning?" 

They  referred  to  the  Delille  woman.  The  various  re- 
ports did  not  agree.  Some  of  the  people  seemed  in- 
dignant: "Yes,  she  went  on  winning  with  luck  that 
would  make  you  tired."  The  enthusiasm  of  the  first 
moment  had  vanished.  There  was  a  note  of  envy  con- 
cealed in  words  and  glances.    Others  moved  by  some 


258  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

selfish  sentiment  were  pleased  to  point  to  a  decline  in  her 
marvelous  luck.  She  was  losing  and  winning.  Her 
runs  of  luck  were  not  so  frequent  as  in  the  beginning, 
but  at  all  events  if  she  were  to  stop  at  once,  she  might 
well  take  away  three  hundred  thousand  francs. 

Atilio  and  the  Prince  noticed  Lewis  standing  at  the 
bar,  drinking  the  whisky  which  always  restored  his 
peace  of  mind,  and  permitted  him  to  resume  the  com- 
plicated systems  that  were  to  give  him  back  his  paternal 
inheritance  and  restore  his  castle. 

They  called  to  him  to  inquire  about  the  luck  of  the 
Duchess.  Lewis  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  an  ex- 
pression of  indignation  and  protest.  It  was  absurd  to 
win  like  that,  playing  so  badly. 

"She  must  have  the  Count's  rosary  hidden  in  her 
skirts,"  said  Atilio,  gravely. 

Lewis  was  puzzled  for  the  moment  as  though  he  took 
the  words  seriously.  Later  he  blushed  like  a  proper 
Briton,  as  he  remembered  the  strange  ornaments  on  his 
friend's  rosary.  Suddenly  he  burst  into  a  violent  fit  of 
laughter.  "Oh,  Mr.  Castro! "  Mr.  Castro's  sup- 
position seemed  to  him  so  witty  that  he  laughed  till  he 
nearly  choked  himself  coughing,  and  then  he  decided  to 
get  another  whisky  to  regain  his  serenity. 

The  two  friends  returned  to  the  drawing  room  of  the 
Florentine  Graces. 

The  Prince  saw  Novoa  and  Valeria  on  the  same  divan 
continuing  their  conversation,  but  constantly  becoming 
dreamier  as  they  gazed  into  each  other's  eyes,  as  though 
in  some  deserted  spot. 

He  came  near  them  without  their  seeing  him,  and 
was  able  to  hear  some  of  what  Alicia's  companion  was 
saying. 

"I  don't  know  Spain,  but  I  am  so  interested  in  it.  I 
adore  all  of  the  romantic  countries  where  love  is  every- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  259 

thing,  and  men  are  disinterested,  where  dowries  don't 
exist,  and  a  woman  may  marry  even  if  she  is  poor." 

The  Prince,  in  passing,  gave  the  scientist  a  casual 
glance  of  pity. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  NEW  personage  entered  the  lives  of  the  dwellers  in 
Villa  Sirena.  The  Colonel  announced  with  enthusiasm 
this  friend  whom  Dofia  Clorinda  had  introduced. 

"He  is  a  Spanish  Lieutenant  in  the  Foreign  Legion. 
He  lives  in  the  hotel  which  the  Prince  of  Monaco  gave 
up  for  convalescent  officers.  His  name  is  Antonio  Mar- 
tinez, a  very  common  name  which  reveals  nothing  of  his 
character;  but  he  is  a  great  soldier,  a  hero,  and  I  don't 
know  how  he  manages  to  survive  his  wounds." 

The  "General"  who  kept  track  of  all  the  soldiers  of  a 
certain  reputation,  as  soon  as  they  arrived  in  Monte 
Carlo,  had  been  anxious  to  meet  this  Lieutenant,  and 
had  taken  him  under  her  protection.  The  Duchess  de 
Delille  was  also  interested  in  him,  and  the  two  women, 
proud  of  being  his  marraines,  showed  him  off  in  the  ante- 
room of  the  Casino,  rented  carriages  to  promenade  him 
around  to  the  most  beautiful  spots  on  the  Riviera,  and 
treated  him  to  the  finest  war-time  foods  and  pastry  that 
they  could  find.  With  his  lungs  injured  by  German 
poison  gases,  he  had  also  received  a  hand  grenade  wound 
on  his  head,  and  suffered  from  time  to  time  from  nervous 
*»=ouble,  which  caused  him  to  fall  to  the  ground  uncon- 
sciou>.  T!i?  doctors  talked  despairingly  of  his  condition. 
Perhaps  he  would  live  for  years,  perhaps  he  would  die  in 
one  of  these  crises;  the  important  thing  was  that  he 
should  live  a  quiet  life,  without  any  deep  emotion.  And 
the  two  ladies,  who  knew  the  real  state  of  his  health, 
lamented  it  when  he  was  not  present.  He  was  so  young, 
so  affectionate,  and  so  tjmids     On  the  breast  of  his 

960 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  261 

mustard-colored  uniform,  attached  by  red  ribbons,  as  a 
symbol  of  bravery  given  to  the  foreign  battalions,  were 
the  War  Cross  and  the  Legion  of  Honor. 

Clorinda,  who  considered  that  she  had  greater  rights 
over  him  because  of  having  "discovered"  him,  thought 
for  awhile  of  taking  him  to  Hve  with  her  in  order  to  be 
able  to  take  better  care  of  him.  But  as  she  was  at  the 
Hotel  de  Paris,  she  did  not,  like  Alicia,  have  an  entire 
villa  at  her  disposal.  And  the  latter,  although  tempted 
by  her  friend's  suggestions,  did  not  dare  to  take  the  con- 
valescent into  her  home.  People  liked  to  talk,  and  she, 
without  saying  why,  was  afraid  of  their  gossip.  ' 

In  the  meantime,  they  both  took  the  Lieutenant  every- 
where, protesting  that,  because  of  his  uniform,  he  was 
not  allowed  to  enter  the  rooms  of  the  Casino.  One  after- 
noon. Dona  Clorinda,  with  all  the  natural  boldness  of 
her  character,  took  him  to  Villa  Sirena.  It  was  a  shame 
that  the  handsome  building  and  its  vast  gardens  should 
be  given  over  to  five  men  who  did  nothing  for  humanity 
at  all.  Often  in  her  imagination,  she  had  converted  it 
into  a  Sanitarium  filled  with  invalid  soldiers,  with  her- 
self at  the  head  of  it  as  director  and  patroness.  But  her 
suggestions  had  no  effect  whatever  on  the  Prince.  "A 
selfish  fellow,"  she  said  to  herself,  returning  to  her  for- 
mer opinion. 

As  long  as  it  was  impossible  to  occupy  the  Villa  with 
a  band  of  convalescents,  she  took  the  Spanish  officer  to 
show  him  the  gardens,  without  first  asking  Lubimoff's 
permission. 

The  latter  was  able  to  see  at  first  hand  the  hero 
of  whom  Don  Marcos,  during  the  last  few  days,  had 
talked  so  much.  He  saw  nothing  in  him  to  indicate  ex- 
traordinary deeds.  Martinez  was  a  youth,  ready  to 
blush  when  forced  to  tell  what  he  had  done  in  the  war. 
Without  his  uniform  and  his  insignia  of  honor,  he  would 


262  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

have  seemed  like  a  poor  office  clerk,  modest  and  resigned 
and  incapable  of  being  anything  else.  His  appearance 
contrasted  with  the  deeds  which,  after  much  pleading, 
he  would  finally  be  persuaded  to  confess.  He  was 
twenty-six  years  old,  and  seemed  much  younger,  but  it 
was  a  sickly  sort  of  youth  fulness,  undermined  by  wounds 
and  hardships. 

Lubimoff,  who  hated  the  swagger  of  boastful  heroes, 
felt  at  first  disconcerted,  and  then  attracted  by  the  sim- 
plicity of  this  officer.  If  he  had  not  known  from  Don 
Marcos  the  authenticity  of  his  prowess,  he  would  have 
taken  no  stock  in  it. 

Somewhat  intimidated  in  the  presence  of  the  famous 
owner  of  Villa  Sirena,  Martinez  confessed  his  humble 
birth  with  neither  pride  nor  timidity.  He  was  poor,  the 
son  of  poor  people.  He  had  tried  to  study  for  a  career, 
but  the  necessity  of  earning  his  living  had  caused  him  to 
abandon  books,  trying  the  most  diverse  occupations,  one 
after  the  other.  It  was  so  difficult  to  earn  one's  bread 
in  Spain !  After  fighting  in  the  Spanish  campaign  in 
Morocco,  he  had  wandered  through  various  South  Amer- 
ican Republics,  struggling  all  the  while  against  poverty 
and  ill  luck. 

"There  where  so  many  common  rough  people  get 
rich,"  he  said,  "all  I  found  was  poverty,  like  that  in  my 
own  country.  When  this  war  broke  out,  like  many  other 
people,  I  was  indignant  at  the  conduct  of  the  Germans, 
and  their  atrocities  in  the  invaded  countries.  At  the 
time  I  was  in  Madrid.  One  night  some  of  my  cafe 
acquaintances  agreed  to  go  and  fight  for  France.  The 
person  who  backed  down  was  to  pay  ten  dollars.  They 
all  repented  their  decision,  except  myself.  Don't  imagine 
that  it  was  to  avoid  paying  the  wager.  I  have  my  own 
ideas,  and  have  read  more  or  less.  I  believe  in  republics 
— and  France  is  the  country  of  the  Great  Revolution.    I 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  263 

entered  a  battalion  of  the  Foreign  Legion,  which,  com- 
posed for  the  most  part  of  Spaniards,  was  being  organ- 
ized in  Bayonne.  There  are  a  very  few  left  by  this 
time;  most  of  them  are  dead;  the  rest  are  living  scat- 
tered throughout  the  various  hospitals,  or  else  are  crip- 
pled for  life.  I  knew  what  war  was  like  from  mountain 
warfare  against  the  Moors  in  the  Riff  country,  and  with- 
out seeking  the  honor  I  had  gotten  as  far  as  being  a 
Lieutenant  of  Reserves  in  my  own  country.  Perhaps 
that  is  why  they  made  me  a  Sergeant  in  the  Legion 
after  a  few  weeks.  But  it  certainly  was  hard!  I  had 
never  imagined  they  would  receive  us  with  a  brass  band ! 
France  has  too  many  other  things  to  think  of;  but  it 
was  sad  to  see  how  badly  our  enthusiasm  was  inter- 
preted. Men  called  to  arms  by  the  laws  of  their  country, 
and  who  were  obliged  to  fight,  looked  at  us  with  jealousy 
and  suspicion.  The  other  regiments  considered  us  ad- 
venturers; or  even  escaped  convicts.  'How  hungry  you 
must  have  been  at  home,'  they  said  to  me  at  the  front, 
'to  have  come  here  to  be  able  to  get  something  to  eat!' 
And  among  us  there  were  students,  newspaper  men, 
young  men  from  wealthy  families,  fellows  who  had  en- 
listed with  enthusiasm — but  let's  not  talk  about  that.  In 
every  country  there  are  vulgar  minded  people  incapable 
of  understanding  anything  beyond  their  selfish,  material 
wants." 

His  military  experience  was  confined  to  trench  war- 
fare, endless  and  monotonous,  and  to  short  distance 
attacks.  He  had  arrived  late  at  the  Battle  of  the  Marne ; 
and  he,  who  imagined  that  he  would  take  part  in  gigantic 
combat,  involving  millions  of  men  and  the  firing  of  im- 
mense cannon,  merely  witnessed  a  series  of  struggles  be- 
tween small  forces  hidden  in  the  earth,  and  hand-to-hand 
encounters  to  win  a  few  yards  of  ground.  Life  at  the 
Dardanelles  was  the  worst  of  his  memories.    He  hated 


264  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

to  think  of  that  horrible  campaign.  The  struggles  in 
France  seemed  rather  placid  compared  to  that  fighting  on 
a  few  miles  of  coast,  with  the  sea  at  their  backs  and 
unconquerable  lines  ahead  of  them. 

After  saying  this  he  fell  silent,  and  the  Colonel  had 
to  insist,  with  a  certain  paternal  pride,  that  Martinez 
go  on  talking. 

"Wounds,  many  wounds,"  he  added  simply.  "I  have 
lost  count  of  the  hospitals  that  I  have  known  in  three 
years,  and  of  the  trips  I  have  made  through  France  in 
Red  Cross  ambulances.  When  we  are  not  killed  out- 
right, we  are  like  the  horses  in  bull  fights.  They  patch 
tip  our  skins  outside  the  ring,  strengthen  us  a  bit  and 
back  we  go  into  the  arena,  until  we  get  the  final  goring." 
.  Toledo,  becoming  impatient  at  the  young  man's  mod- 
esty, told  the  story  of  his  wounds.  He  received  some 
in  every  period  of  the  fighting.  Some  belonged  to  mod- 
ern warfare,  produced  by  fragments  of  high  explosive 
shells,  others  came  from  machine  guns,  and  even  that 
cough  which  interrupted  his  speech  from  time  to  time 
was  caused  by  asphyxiating  gases.  Others  were  made  by 
knives,  by  clubbings  from  gun  stocks,  by  flying  stones, 
and  even  by  the  teeth  of  the  Germans  in  night  encounters 
and  surprise  attacks,  in  which  men  fought  as  they  did  in 
the  infancy  of  human  life  on  this  planet. 

Prince  Lubimoff  could  not  help  admiring  this  slight, 
dark  young  man,  who  looked  so  insignificant.  It  seemed 
impossible  that  a  human  organism  could  resist  so  many 
blows,  and  that  his  weak  body  could  sustain  so  many 
shocks  without  succumbing. 

But  Martinez,  with  the  solidarity  of  all  those  who  face 
danger,  refused  all  personal  glory.  He  talked  about  the 
Legion  as  a  soldier  talks  about  his  regiment,  as  a  sailor 
talks  about  his  ship,  considering  it  the  finest  of  all.  He 
saw  the  entire  war  in  terms  of  the  Legion.    The  French 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  265 

were  all  brave.  Besides,  no  one  could  guess  where  the 
enemy  would  attack,  and  wherever  the  latter  assumed  the 
offensive,  they  found  troops  that  withstood  them  and 
kept  them  from  passing.    But  the  Foreign  Legion ! 

"The  soldiers  who  fight  at  the  front  are  men,"  he  said, 
"men  torn  from  their  families  through  the  needs  of  the 
country.  But  we  are  fighters.  That  is  why  in  the  diffi- 
cult operations,  when  flesh  and  blood  have  to  be  sacri- 
ficed, they  send  us  forward.  I  am  always,  of  course, 
only  one  of  many.  But  the  Legion!  .  .  .  Every  six 
months  a  new  Colonel :  He  is  killed  and  another  takes 
his  place,  he,  too,  is  destined  to  die.  And  how  the  enemy 
hates  us !  There  is  one  thing  we  are  proud  of.  Among 
the  prisoners  that  there  are  in  Germany,  there  is  not  a 
single  one  from  the  Foreign  Legion.  Any  one  of  us 
who  ever  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  Boches  knows  that 
he  is  a  dead  man :  we  are  outlawed.  And  for  our  part, 
well,  we  do  our  best  too!  .  .  .  Even  when  they  insult 
us  from  trench  to  trench,  we  are  proud  of  belonging  to 
the  Legion.  One  night,  the  enemy  opposite,  hearing  us 
speak  Spanish,  began  to  shout  in  our  language.  They 
must  have  been  Germans  from  South  America,  'Hey, 
Macabros!  Wait  till  we  get  hold  of  you,  and  then!  .  .  .' 
They  threatened  us  with  the  most  terrible  tortures.  And 
they  always  nicknamed  us  'Macabros!'  I  don't  know 
why." 

The  Duchess  de  Delille  admired  the  hero,  feeling  at 
the  same  time  a  certain  sense  of  uneasiness  at  the  hor- 
rors which  she  guessed  from  his  words.  "The  war! 
When  would  the  war  be  over?" 

The  Lieutenant  shrugged  his  shoulders,  smiling.  Peo- 
ple who  live  far  from  the  front  were  more  impatient 
for  peace  than  those  who  risked  their  lives  in  the  front 
lines.  They  had  become  accustomed  to  contact  with 
death.     The  war  would  last  as  long  as  was  necessary: 


266  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

five  years,  ten  years;  the  main  thing  was  to  win  the 
victory. 

But  Toledo,  fearing  that  the  conversation  would  get 
away  from  his  hero,  insisted  once  more  on  his  great 
deeds. 

"I'm  only  one  of  many,"  said  Martinez.  "But  as  far 
as  brave  men  are  concerned,  I  can  recommend  the  Legion. 
That  is  where  you'll  find  them.  And  all  have  died !  .  .  . 
At  first  we  had  men  from  every  country.  But  the  Amer- 
icans left  as  soon  as  their  Republic  intervened  in  the 
war;  and  it  was  the  same  with  the  Italians  and  Poles. 
On  the  other  hand,  many  Russians,  when  their  regiments 
were  disbanded,  joined  the  Legion.  There  is  nothing 
extraordinary  to  tell  about  myself.  And  they  have  re- 
warded me  so  highly  for  the  little  I  have  done!  Being 
a  foreigner  I  have  two  ribbons.  Besides,  I  shall  never 
forget  the  moment  when  the  Colonel,  a  week  before  they 
killed  him,  called  me,  and  said,  'Martinez,  the  General 
has  given  me  four  Crosses  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  for 
our  Legion.  One  of  them  is  yours.'  And  he  put  it  on 
my  breast  in  front  of  a  whole  battalion  of  brave  men 
presenting  arms.  It  was  unforgettable:  it  was  worth  a 
life  time." 

It  was  the  truth.  Colonel  Toledo  affirmed  it,  nodding 
his  head,  his  eyes  wet  with  tears.  Later,  with  selfish 
jealousy,  Don  Marcos  tore  him  away  from  the  ladies, 
who  were  busy  for  the  moment,  talking  with  the  Prince 
and  his  friend. 

Walking  through  the  gardens,  the  Colonel  gazed  at 
his  hero  with  a  look  of  tender  protection,  such  as  an 
artist  who  has  exhausted  his  talents  gazes  at  the  in- 
creasing triumph  of  a  younger,  fresher,  and  more  suc- 
cessful colleague. 

"Youth,  youth!"  he  said.  "You,  Martinez,  belong  to 
the  Spain  of  the  future;  I  belong  to  the  Spain  of  past 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  7^7 

days,  the  Spain,  that  will  never  return  again.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  the  world  is  progressing  in  new  directions." 

The  Colonel  kept  up  a  frequent  correspondence  with 
many  Spanish  volunteers  in  the  Legion.  He  looked  after 
them  with  all  the  affection  of  a  marraine,  sending  them 
chocolate,  select  edibles,  everything  that  he  could  spare 
from  the  Villa  Sirena  pantry,  without  impairing  the 
service.  Some  of  the  letters  which  came  from  the  front 
made  him  weep  and  laugh.  One  volunteer  asked  him  to 
send  a  good  Spanish  knife,  having  broken  his  own  in  a 
night  attack.  Another  dreamt  of  a  Browning  revolver. 
Who  would  give  him  a  Browning?  He  had  only  an 
ordnance  revolver,  an  undependable  weapon  that  had 
failed  him  twice  in  an  attack  on  a  trench  and  had  pre- 
vented him  from  killing  the  German  who  finally  wounded 
him. 

With  Lieutenant  Martinez,  the  Colonel  could  let  go 
all  his  enthusiasm  and  give  free  rein  to  prophesies  in 
favor  of  the  Allies. 

In  the  presence  of  Atilio  and  Novoa  he  was  less  talk- 
ative as  he  feared  their  ridicule. 

In  order  to  tease  him  and  make  him  mad  they  recalled 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  Carlist  party  in  Spain  for  Ger- 
many. Castro  even  pretended  that  he  was  surprised  that 
the  Colonel  was  not  a  pro-German,  the  same  as  his 
political  friends. 

"I  am  where  I  belong,"  said  Don  Marcos  with  dignity. 
*T  am  a  gentleman,  and  belong  with  decent  people." 

This  was  his  supreme  argument.  Humanity  was  di- 
vided, according  to  him,  into  two  classes — the  decent 
and  the  indecent.  It  was  the  same  with  nations,  and 
Germany  was  not  to  be  counted  among  the  decent. 

As  a  patriot  he  suffered  at  seeing  Spain  outside  the 
struggle,  making  an  effort  to  remain  unaware  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  rest  of  the  world,  putting  its  head 


268  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

under  its  wing,  like  certain  long-legged  birds  that  im- 
agine they  can  avoid  danger  by  not  seeing  it.  Happily, 
his  country  did  not  figure  among  the  indecent  nations,  nor 
was  it  any  too  decent  either.  It  was  allowing  a  chance 
for  glory  to  escape,  and  this  stirred  the  Colonel's  wrath 
deeply. 

For  the  last  three  months  a  fixed  idea  has  been  dis- 
turbing his  happiest  moments.  The  Allies  had  entered 
Jerusalem.  What  a  great  joy  for  an  old  Catholic  sol- 
dier! But  his  joy  afterwards  made  him  smile  bitterly. 
A  Protestant  nation  freeing  the  sepulcher  of  Christ  for 
the  third  time !  .  .  . 

"Imagine,  Martinez,  if  only  Spain  had  been  with  the 
decent  nations !  We  have  missed  the  chance  of  obtain- 
ing this  glory,  we  who  belong  to  the  nation  that  has 
showed  the  greatest  faith.  Even  I,  in  spite  of  my  years, 
would  have  gone  on  the  crusade.  The  Spanish  entering 
Jerusalem  victorious!    What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

But  the  officer  replied,  with  a  vague  smile,  "Yes,  per- 
haps." It  was  evident  that  the  entry  into  Jerusalem  and 
the  empty  tomb  of  Christ  made  very  little  difference  to 
him.  Don  Marcos  was  somewhat  disappointed  with  his 
hero,  but  he  consoled  himself  with  the  thought  that  after 
all  his  own  ideas  belonged  to  the  Middle  Ages.  Decided- 
ly, he  and  Martinez  were  men  of  two  different  periods. 
"Youth,  youth !  You  belong  to  the  Spain  of  the  future ; 
I  to  the  Spain"  .  .  .  and  so  on. 

Yes ;  the  world  was  progressing  in  new  directions.  He, 
himself,  a  few  days  later,  worried  by  the  gloomy  aspect 
of  the  war  on  the  Western  Front,  had  forgotten  all  about 
Jerusalem.  The  Germans,  freed  from  the  peril  presented 
by  Russia  at  their  backs,  after  making  peace  with  the 
Bolsheviki,  were  concentrating  all  their  troops  in  France, 
in  order  to  make  a  drive  on  Paris.  The  Allies,  facing 
this  overwhelming  offensive,  could  count  only  on  their 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  269 

regular  forces  and  those  which  the  recent  intervention 
of  the  United  States  might  bring. 

In  regard  to  aid  from  this  latter  source  Don  Marcos 
held  a  fixed  and  decided  opinion.  In  the  first  place  he 
had  felt  towards  the  United  States  a  certain  antipathy 
which  dated  back  to  the  Cuban  war.  They  might  possess 
a  large  fleet,  because  anybody  can  buy  ships  if  he  has 
money  enough,  and  the  Americans  were  immensely  rich : 
but  how  about  an  army  ?  Toledo  believed  only  in  armies 
belonging  to  monarchies,  with  the  exception  of  that  of 
France,  since  in  the  latter  country  the  glory  of  military 
tradition  was  attached  to  the  history  of  the  first  Re- 
public. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  war,  he  had  even  been  irri- 
tated by  the  importance  which  every  one  had  given 
President  Wilson.  Both  sides  had  turned  to  him,  ap- 
pealing to  his  judgment,  and  protesting  against  the  bar- 
barities of  the  respective  adversary.  Even  Wilhelm  II 
cabled  him  frequently  to  make  a  show  of  sincerity  for 
his  frauds,  as  though  he  considered  it  important  to  gain 
Wilson's  good  opinion. 

"Just  as  though  this  man  were  the  center  of  the  Uni- 
verse !  The  President  of  a  Republic  that  had  only  a  few 
thousand  soldiers,  a  professor,  a  dreamer!  .  .  ." 

He  understood  only  heads  of  States  in  uniform,  their 
breasts  covered  with  decorations,  with  both  hands  on 
the  hilt  of  a  sword,  and  with  an  immense  army  before 
them,  ready  to  fight  in  obedience  to  orders.  And  this 
gentleman  in  a  cut-away  coat  and  stiff  hat,  with  eye- 
glasses and  a  smile  like  that  of  a  learned  clergyman, 
was  now  the  man  on  whom  the  eyes  of  half  the  world 
were  focused  with  looks  of  hope,  and  he  was  the  de- 
ciding power  that  some  were  anxious  to  win  over  and 
others  were  afraid  of  arguing  with! 

Atilio  Castro  laughed  at  Don  Marcos.    He  was  always 


270  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

out  of  sympathy  with  the  Colonel's  opinions,  and  seemed 
impressed  by  this  new  marvel  in  history. 

"Times  have  changed  since  your  day,  Don  Marcos. 
We  are  going  to  see  something  new.  America,  which 
a  century  ago  was  merely  a  European  colony,  will  per- 
haps protect  and  save  Europe  now.  In  the  meantime, 
we  are  witnessing  the  curious  spectacle  of  a  former 
University  professor  being  the  arbiter  of  the  world. 
What  would  Napoleon  say  if  he  were  to  see  this  ninety- 
four  years  after  his  death?" 

Toledo  gloomily  assented.  Yes;  his  days  had  passed. 
Democracy,  Republicanism,  all  these  things  that  had 
made  him  smile,  as  though  they  were  something  transi- 
tory, ineffectual  and  out  of  date,  were  very  powerful  in 
the  present  world,  and  perhaps  would  finally  take  charge 
of  directing  its  affairs.  Even  he  felt  their  irresistible  in- 
fluence. When  he  saw  how  the  President  of  the  great 
American  Republic  protested  against  the  torpedoing  of 
defenseless  ships,  the  crimes  of  the  submarines,  and 
finally  declared  war  on  the  German  Empire,  Don  Marcos 
affirmed,  stammering  out  a  confession : 

"This  man  Wilson  ...  this  Wilson  is  a  decent  sort 
of  a  fellow." 

For  him  it  was  impossible  to  say  more. 

He  approved  of  the  man  through  instinctive  worship 
of  personal  power,  but  refused  to  believe  in  the  military 
strength  of  the  United  States.  It  was  a  land  of  liberty, 
according  to  him,  where  all  considered  themselves  equals 
and  this  made  it  impossible  to  create  a  real  army. 

The  Prince  and  Castro  occasionally  talked  in  his  pres- 
ence of  the  war  of  secession,  the  first  war  in  which  mil- 
lions of  men  had  taken  part,  applying,  moreover,  in- 
numerable inventions,  in  which  all  the  progress  in  modern 
armament  found  its  source.  Toledo  listened,  with  a 
doubt  inspired  by  distant  events.    This  struggle  had  been 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  271 

among  themselves :  militia  warfare ;  but  to  raise  an  army 
of  millions  of  men  in  a  country  that  did  not  have  com- 
pulsory military  service;  to  transport  this  army  across 
the  ocean  with  all  the  immense  quantity  of  supplies  and 
munitions,  and  to  get  them  there,  besides,  in  time  to  save 
Europe  from  the  great  danger.  .  .  .  Mere  dreams! 
"What  they  call  over  there  'bluff' !" 

Don  Marcos  clung  to  this  word  in  order  to  maintain 
his  incredulity.  This  race  is  accustomed  to  accomplish- 
ing tremendous  things ;  Americans  conceive  of  every- 
thing on  a  large  scale:  cities,  buildings,  industries, 
wealth;  but  afterwards  they  exaggerate  considerably 
when  they  come  to  advertising  and  describing  what  they 
do.  Everybody  knew  that,  and  the  American  military 
forces  which  were  to  crush  German  militarism  and  re- 
establish peace  on  earth,  although  well-intentioned,  were 
nothing  but  one  bluff  more. 

Castro  approved  of  the  Colonel's  words  for  the  first 
time,  without  any  intention  of  making  fun  of  him.  The 
President  had  declared  war,  but  the  country  did  not  seem 
disposed  to  follow  him. 

"They  will  probably  send  money,  munitions,  supplies, 
all  the  immense  power  of  their  wealth  and  production. 
But  a  big  army?  Where  can  they  get  one?  How  is  an 
immense  people  accustomed  to  the  volunteer  system, 
and  living  amid  the  greatest  prosperity,  going  to  take  up 
arms?    What  would  they  gain  by  doing  so?" 

But  the  Prince,  who  had  often  been  over  there,  re- 
plied with  an  ambiguous  gesture: 

"Perhaps!  But  if  they  really  want  to  enter  the  war, 
who  knows !  Anything  might  happen  in  that  country,  no 
matter  how  impossible  it  seems!" 

The  Colonel  was  gradually  won  over  by  the  irrational 
enthusiasm  of  the  general  public.  Since  the  beginning 
of  the  war,  the  masses,  who  believe  in  mysterious  pre- 


272  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

dictions  and  supernatural  interventions,  had  always  had 
some  favorite  people,  some  nation  that  it  had  been  the 
fashion  to  regard  as  invincible  and  in  which  all  hopes 
could  be  concentrated. 

At  the  beginning  it  had  been  Russia,  with  its  millions 
and  millions  of  men,  the  Russian  "steam  roller"  that 
had  only  to  advance  in  order  to  crush  Germany.  Poor 
steam  roller!  When  it  had  fallen  to  pieces,  the  fickle 
enthusiasm  of  the  public  had  turned  toward  England. 
Now  it  was  America,  all  the  more  miraculous  and 
omnipotent  because  little  known. 

In  all  conversations  one  heard  the  name  of  an  Ameri- 
can, both  at  elegant  teas  and  in  humble  cafes;  the  one 
American  well  known  in  Europe:  Edison,  the  inventor. 
He  would  settle  everything.  Up  to  the  present  time  he 
had  remained  out  of  sight  and  silent,  but  now  that  his 
country  had  entered  the  war  they  would  see  something 
miraculous.  In  a  few  hours,  invisible  and  implacable 
powers  would  crush  to  bits  the  invading  armies ;  the  sub- 
marines would  burst  like  shells  under  a  sort  of  frozen 
light  which  would  pursue  them  in  the  ocean  depths;  the 
aeroplanes  that  bombarded  defenseless  cities  would  be 
forced  to  descend,  drawn  by  electric  magnetism,  as  a 
bird  is  drawn  toward  the  mouth  of  a  boa  constrictor. 
Edison,  the  wonder-worker,  meant  more  to  the  popular 
imagination  of  Europe  than  all  the  soldiers  and  all  the 
ships  of  his  country. 

And  Toledo,  who  decorated  his  bedroom  with  pictures 
of  Joffre  and  Foch,  but  believed  at  the  same  time  that  St. 
Genevieve,  the  patron  saint  of  Paris,  had  intervened  in 
the  victory  of  the  Marne,  felt  attracted  by  all  the  miracles 
of  the  American  wizard,  announced  by  every  one  as 
something  sure.  Science,  being  somewhat  apart  from 
religion,  inspired  in  him  a  feeling  of  respect  and 
fear.    For  this  reason  he  believed  blindly  in  its  wonders, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  273 

much  as  a  zealot  believes  in  the  immense  powers  of  the 
devil. 

At  other  times  his  incredulity  was  renewed.  The  war 
could  only  be  determined  by  troops.  Up  to  that  time  the 
forces  of  both  sides  had  been  equal;  but  now  Germany 
was  bringing  new  divisions — those  from  the  Eastern 
Front, — and  was  preparing  the  decisive  blow.  On  the 
side  of  the  Allies  an  equivalent  or  greater  number  of 
soldiers  was  lacking;  they  needed  the  last  few  drops 
which  would  fill  the  glass,  cause  it  to  overflow  and  tip 
the  scales.  America  might  do  this.  But  their  forces 
were  arriving  so  slowly!  The  obstacles  were  so  great! 
A  few  battalions  of  the  regular  American  army  had 
already  marched  through  Paris.  After  that  months  went 
by  without  the  constant  tiny  stream  of  reenforcements 
becoming  a  torrent. 

Everywhere  on  the  Riviera,  Toledo  observed  wounded 
soldiers  from  various  countries.  Only  from  time  to  time 
was  he  able  to  distinguish  a  few  American  uniforms, 
worn  by  men  of  the  Medical  Corps,  who  did  not  seem 
to  have  much  to  do.  The  newspapers  talked  about  forces 
from  the  United  States  that  occupied  a  sector  on  the 
front,  but  they  were  so  few! 

"All  that  talk  about  a  million  or  two  million  men  be- 
fore the  end  of  the  year  is  mere  bluff,"  said  the  Colonel. 
'T  know  something  about  such  things,  and  it  is  easier  to 
build  a  skyscraper  with  a  hundred  stories  than  to  trans- 
port a  million  soldiers  from  one  hemisphere  to  the  other. 
And  how  about  the  great  drive  that  is  beginning!  And 
France  is  worn  out,  after  four  years  of  heroism  that  has 
drained  her  blood!" 

Every  day  he  walked  up  and  down  in  the  ante-room 
of  the  Casino,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  big  bulletins 
which  were  written  out  by  hand  in  large  letters  and 
posted  on  the  panels  by  the  employees.    In  scanning  the 


274  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

latest  telegraphic  dispatches  he  was  looking  only  for  the 
beginning  of  the  offensive  announced  by  the  enemy.  This 
menace  had  shaken  his  faith  in  the  victory,  and  kept  him 
in  a  state  of  constant  worry.  Oh!  If  only  the  Ameri- 
cans would  come  in  time,  and  in  enormous  numbers. 

He  felt  it  his  duty  to  lie  unblushingly  to  the  friends 
who  surrounded  him  in  the  ante-room,  asking  his  opinion 
as  a  soldier. 

"We  will  triimiph;  and  William  will  have  to  shoot 
himself." 

The  question  of  his  shooting  himself  was  the  one  thing 
that  that  will  be  his  end,  in  case  of  a  defeat. 

"I  know  the  Kaiser  very  well,"  he  continued.  "He  is 
only  a  Lieutenant,  a  Lieutenant  that  has  grown  old,  keep- 
ing the  cracked  brain  swagger  of  youth.  But  he  has  the 
sense  of  honor  of  an  officer  who,  finding  himself  de- 
feated, raises  his  revolver  to  his  head.  You  will  see 
that  that  will  be  his  end,  in  case  of  a  defeat." 

"He  writes  verse,  music,  and  paints  pictures,  giving 
his  opinion  on  every  matter,  and  making  people  accept 
it,  like  one  of  those  young  officers  who  on  entering  a 
drawing  room  of  civilians  monopolize  attention  with 
their  insolence  and  conceit,  emboldened  by  the  silence 
of  the  guests,  who  are  afraid  of  provoking  a  duel.  He 
is  the  eternal  twenty-two-year-old  Lieutenant  whose  hair 
has  grown  gray  under  the  imperial  crown,  whose  head 
has  been  turned  a  bit  by  the  constant  triumphs  of  his 
personal  vanity.  But  once  Fate  turns  her  back  on  him, 
he  will  act  in  the  same  decisive  manner  as  an  officer  who 
has  gambled  away  the  funds  entrusted  to  his  care,  or 
committed  other  crimes  against  his  honor. 

"Never  fear;  the  Lieutenant  will  know  how  to  act 
when  the  hour  of  adversity  arises.  He  is  a  mad  man,  a 
vain  comedian,  but  he  has  the  sense  of  shame  of  a  war- 
rior.   Let  me  repeat :  He  will  shoot  himself." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  275 

And  in  his  imagination  he  could  hear  the  Imperial  re- 
volver-shot. 

What  disgusted  Don  Marcos  was  not  to  be  able  to 
talk  about  this,  nor  about  the  danger  of  the  offensive, 
when  he  was  in  Villa  Sirena.  The  friends  of  the  Prince 
lived  like  guests  at  a  hotel.  They  never  were  all  to- 
gether except  during  the  early  morning  hours.  They 
rarely  sat  down  together  at  table.  Some  power  from 
the  outside  seemed  to  attract  them  away  from  the  Villa, 
driving  them  toward  Monte  Carlo.  Even  the  Prince 
often  lunched  or  dined  at  the  Hotel  de  Paris,  sending 
word  at  the  last  minute  by  telephone. 

This  domestic  disorder  was  accepted  by  Toledo  as 
providential. 

The  service  had  suffered  an  unavoidable  decline 
through  the  departure  of  Estola  and  Pistola.  One  morn- 
ing they  appeared,  stammering  and  filled  with  emotion, 
minus  the  dress  suits  which  were  too  large  for  them. 
They  were  going  away.  They  were  to  cross  the  frontier 
that  very  afternoon  to  appear  at  the  Barracks.  They 
had  received  orders  from  their  Consul. 

They  did  not  seem  filled  with  enthusiasm  for  their 
new  profession ;  but  Don  Marcos,  through  a  sense  of  pro- 
fessional duty,  tried  to  buck  them  up  with  a  bit  of  a 
speech.  He,  too,  at  their  age,  had  gone  off  to  war  of 
his  own  accord.  "Respect  for  your  officers  .  .  .  love 
them  as  you  would  your  father  .  .  .  for  honor  .  .  .  for 
the  flag." 

The  appearance  of  the  Prince  cut  short  his  harangue. 
The  two  boys  kissed  their  master's  hand  as  though  they 
were  taking  leave  of  him  for  eternity,  and  in  their  con- 
fusion they  did  not  know  where  to  put  the  bank  notes 
which  were  given  them.  Imagine  Estola  and  Pistola  con- 
verted into  soldiers !  Even  these  two  boys  were  being 
driven  along  the  road  of  death!    And  the  whole  thing 


276  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

seemed  so  extraordinary  to  Michael,  so  absurd,  that 
while  he  felt  sorry  for  them,  he  also  felt  like  laughing. 

Half  an  hour  later  he  had  forgotten  all  about  them. 
The  Colonel  would  manage  to  organize  new  service  with 
women,  now  that  owing  to  the  war  it  was  impossible  to 
get  other  servants.  Besides,  he  was  bored  at  Villa 
Sirena,  and  living  at  Monte  Carlo  would  be  something  of 
a  novelty  for  him. 

The  idlers  who  promenaded  around  the  "Camembert" 
frequently  saw  him  enter  the  Casino  with  an  absent- 
minded  air,  like  a  gambler  who  has  just  thought  of  a 
new  combination.  The  crowd  in  the  gambling  room  had 
also  seen  him  approach  the  tables  as  though  interested 
in  the  fluctuation  of  chance,  but  they  waited  in  vain  to 
see  him  place  a  bet,  imagining  that  he  would  play  noth- 
ing save  enormous  sums. 

His  eyes  seemed  to  see  in  all  directions,  and  no  sooner 
did  the  Duchess  de  Delille  leave  her  seat  to  go  over  to 
another  table,  than  the  Prince  came  forward  to  meet  her, 
extended  his  hand  and  smiled  youthfully. 

They  remained  motionless  in  the  spot  where  they 
greeted  each  other,  gazing  into  each  other's  eyes,  until, 
warned  instinctively  of  prying  glances  behind  their  backs, 
they  went  and  sat  down  on  a  divan  in  a  comer,  and  con- 
tinued their  conversation  there.  Suddenly,  a  murmur 
from  the  crowd  around  a  table  would  cause  her  out  of 
professional  curiosity  to  leave  Lubimoff  and  to  hasten 
thither. 

Alicia  would  smile  the  proud  bitter  smile  of  a  de- 
throned queen.  During  the  preceding  day  people  had 
talked  of  nothing  save  her.  Her  name  had  traveled  as 
far  as  Nice  and  Menton.  In  the  evenings,  at  the  dinner 
hour,  families  who  dwelt  permanently  in  Monaco  and 
who  are  forbidden  to  enter  the  Casino,  asked  for  news 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  277 

of  her  luck.  In  the  cafes  and  restaurants,  her  name  re- 
sounded, mingled  with  those  of  the  Generals  who  were 
directing  the  war.  In  front  of  the  bulletins  giving  the 
latest  news,  people  interrupted  their  comments  on  the 
coming  offensive,  asking  one  another,  "How  did  the 
Duchess  de  Delille  come  out  yesterday?"  Afternoons, 
when  she  arrived  at  the  Casino,  sightseers  crowded  about 
her  to  get  a  better  view,  and  her  friends  greeted  her, 
proudly  kissing  her  hand.  It  was  a  silent  ovation,  con- 
sisting of  glances  and  smiles,  like  that  which  greets  the 
entry  of  a  famous  soprano  on  the  stage  which  has  wit- 
nessed her  triumphs. 

Her  battle  with  the  Casino  lasted  about  two  weeks; 
she  won,  lost,  and  won  again.  She  began  her  "work" 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  remained  at  it 
until  midnight.  The  tea  hour  passed,  then  the  dinner 
hour,  without  her  being  aware  of  it.  When  the  gam- 
bling was  closed  she  came  away,  leaning  on  Valeria's  arm, 
greeting  every  one  amiably,  exhausted  and  victorious. 
Sometimes,  like  an  invalid  fed  against  her  will,  she 
accepted  the  sandwiches  and  a  cup  of  tea  which  her  com- 
panions brought  her  at  the  gambling  table. 

One  night — a  memorable  one — she  had  won  continu- 
ously up  to  the  closing  hour  of  the  Casino.  She  counted 
the  bank  notes  that  the  head  employees  had  given  her 
with  a  hard,  enigmatic  smile.  There  were  four  hundred 
of  them,  each  of  a  thousand  francs.  They  protruded 
from  her  hand  bag  and  from  Valeria's.  Even  her  friend, 
"the  General,"  was  obliged  to  help  her,  by  taking  care 
of  several  packages  of  them. 

"If  they  hadn't  closed  I  would  have  broken  the  bank," 
she  said  with  the  vanity  of  a  conqueror. 

Clorinda  accompanied  her  in  the  carriage  as  far  as 
her  house,  repeating  prudent  advice :  "Don't  go  on ;  keep 


278  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  money.  It  is  impossible  to  go  any  higher."  Valeria, 
during  the  course  of  the  evening,  kept  repeating  the 
same  words :  "It  is  tempting  God  to  keep  on." 

But  Alicia  refused  to  listen  to  her.  Her  inspiration 
was  not  exhausted.  There  still  remained  great  things  for 
her  to  do;  and  when  the  time  came  for  her  to  stopj  she 
would  be  aware  of  it  sooner  than  the  rest. 

Michael  had  been  present  at  this  struggle,  which  had 
been  annoying  to  him.  Every  afternoon,  when  he  en- 
tered the  Casino,  he  called  himself  names,  as  though  he 
were  doing  something  cowardly.  Why  did  he  come  to 
witness  the  acts  of  that  mad  woman?  She  did  not  seem 
to  be  aware  of  his  presence!  At  first  a  look,  a  smile, 
and  during  the  remaining  hours  she  had  eyes  for  nothing 
save  the  gambling  and  the  croupiers.  In  spite  of  this, 
the  Prince  kept  coming  regularly. 

To  excuse  himself,  he  recalled  certain  words  which 
the  Duchess  had  said.  The  day  following  her  first  fa- 
mous winning,  she  had  arisen  on  seeing  him  enter  the 
room,  taken  both  his  hands  in  hers  to  speak  to  him 
privately. 

"You  bring  me  good  luck,"  she  murmured  in  his  ear. 
"I  am  sure  that  this  is  so.  I  have  been  winning  since 
we  became  friends.  Come,  come  all  the  time!  Let  me 
see  you  every  time  I  raise  my  eyes." 

She  raised  them,  however,  very,  very  seldom.  She 
had  other  more  urgent  things  to  think  of.  But  Michael, 
to  quiet  his  angry  conscience,  told  himself  that  he  was 
there  to  keep  his  word.  Besides,  who  knew  but  what 
she  was  telling  the  truth !  The  tendency  to  superstition, 
common  to  all  gamblers,  the  Casino's  surroundings  and 
even  Alicia's  luck  itself,  had  finally  influenced  the  cre- 
dulity of  the  Prince. 

He  tried  to  avenge  himself  for  these  long  waits  and 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  279 

her  indifference  by  looking  at  her  with  scornful  eyes. 

"How  ugly  she  looks!" 

Yes,  she  was  ugly,  like  all  the  women  who  gamble 
and  seem  to  suffer  at  an  ever  increasing  rate,  the  weight 
of  years  crushing  out  their  youth  under  the  stress  of 
emotion.  Every  loss  meant  another  year,  every  winning 
meant  a  look  of  tenseness  which  spoiled  the  regularity 
of  their  features.  Michael  took  a  certain  joy  in  noting 
the  wrinkles  which  fixed  attention  formed  about  her 
eyes.  Her  nose  seemed  to  grow  sharp,  and  two  deep 
furrows  drew  down  the  corners  of  her  mouth,  giving  her 
an  expression  of  premature  old  age.  All  the  little  femi- 
nine attentions  disappeared  as  the  hours  went  by.  Her 
hat  tilted  to  one  side;  locks  of  hair  made  an  effort  to 
escape,  as  though  disarranged  by  currents  of  human  elec- 
tricity darting  among  their  roots.  She  seemed  ten  years 
older. 

But  a  second  voice  within  gave  forth  a  different  opin- 
ion. "Yes,  she  was  very  ugly,  but  so  interesting !"  Sure- 
ly when  she  arose  from  the  table  she  would  be  once 
more  the  same  Alicia  as  ever. 

One  afternoon,  on  entering  the  Casino,  he  had  a  sense 
of  something  extraordinary  happening.  People  were 
talking  together^  asking  news,  all  of  them  hurrying  to- 
ward the  same  table. 

His  friend  Lewis  passed  him  without  stopping. 

"It  was  bound  to  happen.  She  doesn't  know  how  to 
play.    I  expected  it." 

A  little  farther  on  Spadoni  came  forward  to  greet  him. 

"She  would  never  listen  to  me.  She  acts  on  her  whims. 
She  doesn't  follow  any  system.    She  is  done  for." 

All  the  gamblers  were  talking  as  though  they  were 
lamenting  somebody's  death;  but  it  was  a  question  of 
hypocritical   compunction,   inwardly   they   felt   a   sense 


28o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  envious  triumph  on  seeing  at  an  end  that  absurd 
run  of  luck,  which  had  embittered  their  evenings. 

Lubimoff,  thrusting  his  head  between  the  shoulders 
of  two  onlookers,  saw  Alicia  at  the  same  time  that  she 
raised  her  eyes.  Their  glances  met.  She  looked  at  him 
with  dismay,  as  though  lamenting,  making  him  responsi- 
ble for  her  misfortune.    "Why  did  you  abandon  me?" 

The  Prince  fled :  it  hurt  him  to  see  her  with  that 
humble  look  of  rage,  like  that  of  a  cornered  sheep,  bleat- 
ing in  pain  and  defending  itself. 

At  nightfall  he  returned  to  the  Casino.  A  few  people 
were  still  talking  about  the  Duchess,  but  in  low  tones, 
with  sad  gestures,  as  though  referring  to  a  dying  person. 
The  crowd  had  thinned  about  the  table.  He  saw  Alicia 
in  the  same  place.  Valeria  stood  behind  her  chair,  with 
a  sad  face,  while  Dona  Clorinda  bent  over  her  friend, 
talking  in  her  ear.  He  guessed  her  words.  She  was 
pleading  with  her  to  come  away:  next  day  she  would 
have  better  luck.  But  she  did  not  seem  to  hear,  and  re- 
mained with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  few  five  hundred  and 
a  thousand  franc  chips,  which  were  all  that  remained. 
Suddenly  she  lost  her  patience,  and  turning  her  head 
she  said  one  word,  nothing  more,  something  very  strong, 
but  nothing  without  precedent  in  that  intimate  friend- 
ship which  was  broken  off  at  least  once  every  week. 
Dofia  Clorinda  immediately  retorted,  looking  daggers, 
and  went  away,  haughtily  and  disdainfully,  while  Valeria 
looked  at  the  ceiling  in  despair. 

Michael  fled  once  more.  He  was  frightened  by  the 
expression  on  Alicia's  face  and  the  nervous  hostility  in 
her  voice,  which  he  had  not  been  able  to  hear,  but  which 
was  easily  guessed  from  the  trembling  of  her  lips.  He 
wandered  about  the  rooms  for  half  an  hour,  listening  at 
a  distance  to  the  words  of  those  who  were  still  talking 
about  the  Duchess.    One  afternoon  had  been  sufficient  to 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  281 

sweep  away  all  that  she  had  won  in  many  successful 
days.  Her  misfortune  was  as  extraordinary  as  her  good 
luck  had  been.     She  had  not  won  a  single  bet. 

Suddenly  he  felt  the  contact  of  a  nervous  hand  on  his 
shoulder.  He  turned  his  eyes.  It  was  Alicia,  but  with 
an  eager  gesture,  and  with  an  expression  which  was  both 
bold  and  imploring. 

"Have  you  any  money?" 

Her  voice  and  the  expression  on  her  face  were  not  un- 
known to  Michael.  Before  the  war,  the  Casino  had  been 
the  scene  of  his  most  unexpected  and  dazzling  conquests. 
Women  who  were  very  cold  and  treated  him  with  visible 
antipathy,  and  women  of  well-known  virtue  whose  very 
looks  repelled  all  audacity,  had  approached  him  with  an 
air  of  sudden  decision,  requesting  a  loan,  and  immediate- 
ly asking  point  blank  at  what  hour  the  Prince  might  offer 
them  a  cup  of  tea  at  Villa  Sirena.  He  thought  of  the 
Colonel,  who  considered  gambling  the  worst  of  women's 
enemies.  It  caused  them  to  lose  all  sense  of  shame. 
In  a  few  hours  the  standards  built  up  during  an  entire 
lifetime  were  suddenly  demolished.  In  order  to  go  on 
gambling,  they  offered  of  their  own  free  will  what  they 
had  never  thought  of  granting. 

The  Prince  replied,  with  surprise,  at  this  sudden  re- 
quest. He  carried  very  little  money  on  his  person :  ha 
was  not  a  gambler.    How  much  did  she  want  ? 

"Twenty  thousand  francs." 

She  mentioned  the  figure  in  the  same  manner  as  she 
might  have  said  a  hundred  thousand  or  five  thousand. 
It  was  the  same  to  her  at  that  moment.  Besides,  during 
the  last  few  days  she  had  lost  all  sense  of  values, 

Michael  replied  with  a  laugh.  Did  she  imagine,  by  any 
chance,  that  he  came  to  the  Casino  with  twenty  thousand 
francs  in  his  pocketbook,  as  though  he  were  a  money 
lender  or  a  pawn  broker? 


282  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Ask  for  a  loan,"  said  the  Duchess.  "They  will  give 
you  anything  you  ask  for." 

He  went  on  laughing  at  this  absurd  proposition,  but 
was  won  over  immediately  by  the  simplicity  with  which 
Alicia   formulated  her  request. 

"How  about  you?    Why  don't  you  ask  for  one?" 

Oh,  as  for  her!  ...  In  the  midst  of  her  proud  tri- 
umph, she  had  forgotten  to  pay  various  debts  contracted 
before  her  sudden  burst  of  luck.  At  present  it  was  use- 
less to  ask.  It  was  a  difficult  moment  for  her;  every 
one  considered  her  ruined,  and  incapable  of  recouping. 

"And  they  are  mistaken,  Michael ;  I  feel  the  inspiration 
of  luck.  You  shall  see  how  I  get  on  my  feet  again  after 
a  few  days.  It  is  my  secret.  If  I  tell  it  to  you,  fortune 
will  abandon  me.  Do  me  this  favor !  Ask  for  the  twenty 
thousand  from  that  little  old  man  over  there  who  is  look- 
ing at  us.  He  can't  refuse  you ;  you  are  Prince  Lubimoff. 
If  you  like  we  will  form  a  partnership:  I  shall  share  half 
my  winnings  with  you." 

Michael  kept  on  smiling,  while  inwardly  he  was  scan- 
dalized by  this  proposition.  Imagine  the  things  in  which 
this  woman  was  trying  to  involve  him !  He,  asking  for 
money  from  a  money  lender  in  the  Casino ! 

But,  like  certain  invalids  who  do  things  most  contrary 
to  their  will,  no  sooner  did  he  leave  Alicia  with  gestures 
of  protest,  than  his  legs  mechanically  took  him  in  the 
direction  of  the  divan  where  the  old  man  with  the  short 
beard,  and  the  badge  of  the  Sacred  Heart  on  his  lapel, 
was  squatting,  with  his  hat  in  one  hand  and  a  silk  cap 
on  his  bald  head. 

"I  need  twenty  thousand  francs." 

The  Prince  seemed  to  be  in  doubt  as  he  faced  this 
little  man,  who  had  arisen,  surprised  and  suspicious  on 
seeing  that  he  was  talking  with  so  lofty  a  personage. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  283 

Was  it  really  his  own  voice  that  he  heard?  Yes,  it  was 
his  voice,  but  he  felt  a  sensation  of  immense  surprise, 
as  though  it  were  some  one  else  who  was  talking.  He 
felt  a  desire  to  withdraw  without  waiting  for  the  gnome's 
reply ;  but  the  latter  had  already  responded,  stammering : 

"Prince  .  .  .  such  an  amount!  I  am  a  poor  man. 
From  time  to  time  I  do  favors  to  distinguished  people, 
two  or  three  thousand  francs  .  .  .  but  twenty  thousand ! 
Twenty  thousand !" 

He  muttered  this  sum  with  a  groan  of  torture,  but 
meanwhile  his  shrewd  eyes  were  penetrating  Lubimoff 
like  a  probe.  This  look  irritated  Michael,  causing  him 
to  take  an  interest  in  the  operation  as  though  his  honor 
were  at  stake.  Doubtless,  the  usurer  was  thinking  about 
Russia,  and  the  disaster  of  the  revolution  and  of  the  im- 
possibility of  being  paid  this  loan  even  though  the  great 
man  were  to  offer  all  his  fortune. 

"You  must  know  me,"  he  said  in  an  irritated  tone. 
"I  am  Prince  Lubimoff ;  I  am  the  owner  of  Villa  Sirena. 
I  need  twenty  thousand  francs;  not  a  franc  less.  H  you 
are  unable  .  .  ." 

He  was  about  to  turn  his  back  on  him,  but  the  dwarf 
humbly  restrained  him,  considering  useless  on  this  occa- 
sion all  the  excuses  and  delays  which  he  usually  made 
his  clients  endure,  like  a  slow  torture.  He  slipped  out 
between  the  groups  of  people,  begging  "His  Highness" 
to  wait  an  instant.  Perhaps  he  did  not  have  the  entire 
sum  with  him,  and  was  obliged  to  ask  for  aid  from  the 
Cashier  of  the  Casino;  perhaps  he  was  going  to  secrete 
himself  for  a  moment  in  the  lavatories,  to  take  bank 
notes  from  various  hiding  places  in  his  clothes,  even  from 
his  shoes. 

Michael  felt  a  discreet  hand  touch  his  own,  thrusting 
between  his  fingers  a  roll  of  paper.    The  old  man  had 


284  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

returned  without  his  seeing  him  come ;  bobbing  up  be- 
tween two  groups,  small  and  sprightly,  like  an  imp  from 
a  trap  door  on  the  stage. 

"You  know  the  Colonel?  To-morrow  he  will  inter- 
view you  about  the  payment  and  the  interest." 

And  the  Prince  turned  his  back  without  more  words, 
leaving  the  usurer  satisfied  with  his  discourteous  brevity. 
A  great  gentleman  could  not  talk  in  any  other  way.  He 
liked  to  have  dealings  with  men  of  that  sort. 

Alicia,  who  had  followed  the  scene  from  a  distance, 
came  forward  to  meet  him,  holding  out  her  hands  in- 
conspicuously. 

"Take  it!"  Michael's  right  hand  thrust  the  bank  notes 
forward  so  rudely  that  the  offer  was  almost  a  blow. 

His  shame  for  what  he  had  just  done  expressed  itself 
in  a  confusion  of  protests. 

"Women!     Of  all  the  fool  things  I  have  ever  done!" 

But  Alicia,  with  the  bank  notes  in  her  hand,  was 
already  thinking  of  nothing  but  the  tables. 

"You  will  see  great  things.  You  know  we  have 
formed  a  partnership :  you  get  half." 

Mastered  once  more  by  the  invisible  demon  that  was 
singing  numbers  and  colors  in  her  ear,  she  went  away 
without  thanking  him. 

He  also  left.  He  was  afraid  of  meeting  the  money 
lender  again,  and  having  him  bow  familiarly;  he  im- 
agined the  entire  crowd  in  the  rooms  had  followed  at- 
tentively his  interview  with  the  old  man  and  had  smiled 
when  he  received  the  money. 

He  left  the  Casino.  He  would  never  come  back  again : 
he  swore  it! 

Castro,  whom  he  had  seen  from  a  distance  gambling 
at  one  of  the  tables,  returned  to  Villa  Sirena  at  the 
dinner  hour.    He  was  in  a  bad  humor ;  but  he  forgot  his 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  285 

own  misfortune  long  enough  to  console  himself  by  re- 
lating Alicia's  mishaps: 

"After  losing  everything  in  trente  et  quarante,  she 
appeared  at  a  last  minute  with  more  money:  a  roll  of 
thousand  franc  notes.  And  she,  who  never  felt  any  spe- 
cial inclination  for  roulette,  began  to  play  the  wheel. 
And  how  she  played !  At  first  she  won  a  few  long  shots, 
two  or  three;  but  after  that  nothing:  she  kept  losing  and 
losing!  She  left  everything  on  the  table.  I  did  not  see 
her  go  out,  but  they  told  m^  she  looked  like  a  corpse, 
leaning  on  Valeria's  arm.  They  say  she  suffers  from 
heart  trouble.  All  I  say  is :  it  isn't  every  one  who  pre- 
tends to  be  a  gambler  that  is  one;  you  need  a  strong 
constitution.  The  'General'  doesn't  play  so  much,  but 
she  is  cooler  and  doesn't  lose  her  head." 

Michael  slept  badly.  He  was  angry  with  Alicia.  In- 
stead of  lamenting  her  misfortune  he  considered  it  logi- 
cal. Imagine  a  woman  trying  to  make  money !  Women 
can  only  get  it  from  men's  hands,  and  it  is  useless  for 
them  to  try  and  get  it  for  themselves,  even  by  appealing 
to  gambling.    Gambling  also  is  an  enterprise  for  men. 

In  the  mental  twilight  when  one  is  half  asleep  and 
half  awake,  the  Prince,  lying  on  his  bed,  remembered 
a  scene  from  his  happier  days,  when  his  yacht  was  an- 
chored in  the  harbor  of  Monaco.  It  was  one  night  when 
he  was  coming  from  a  banquet  in  the  Hotel  de  Paris.  He 
was  slightly  intoxicated  and  was  leaning  in  a  sort  of  a 
mental  haze  on  the  arms  of  two  pretty  women,  who, 
smiling  and  unsuccessful,  were  competing  to  see  which 
one  would  get  him.  Behind  him,  like  a  retinue,  came 
his  friends,  his  brilliant  parasites,  and  various  women 
guests,  his  entire  court.  They  had  entered  the  Casino. 
He  was  not  a  gambler;  it  bored  him  to  sit  motionless 
at  a  table;  he  considered  it  childish  to  get  interested  in 


286  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  whirling  of  a  little  ball  of  bone,  or  the  combinations 
of  little  colored  cards.  There  were  so  many  more  in- 
teresting pleasures  in  life !  But  that  night,  proud  of  his 
power,  he  felt  a  desire  to  fight  a  battle  with  fortune. 
Fortune  is  a  woman,  and  he  was  determined  to  conquer 
it  by  the  power  of  wealth,  as  he  had  conquered  many 
another  woman.  The  rich  finally  defeat  even  destiny 
with  all  its  mysteries.  He  placed  in  front  of  him  an  enor- 
mous quantity  of  money  to  begin  the  struggle,  and  for- 
tune refused  it;  or  rather,  began  to  give  him  money  of 
her  own,  with  scornful  prodigality.  The  multi-million- 
aire wanted  to  lose  and  he  could  not.  He  varied  his 
game  capriciously,  committed  voluntary  errors,  and  suc- 
cess always  came  forward  to  meet  him.  Finally  he  grew 
tired.  It  was  before  the  war,  and  instead  of  with  bone 
chips  representing  a  hundred  francs,  they  played  with 
handsome  gold  coins  of  the  same  value.  In  front  of  him 
he  had  numerous  and  dazzling  columns  of  this  metal; 
and  packages  of  bank  notes. 

"Who  wants  money?" 

He  began  to  fling  it  about  in  an  enchanting  rain.  All 
except  the  most  aristocratic  women  came  running,  tense 
and  pale,  swarming  around  the  table,  struggling  for  a 
single  louis.  They  shoved  one  another,  rolled  on  the 
carpet,  bruising  each  other  with  hands  and  feet,  to  gain 
a  single  drop  of  this  golden  manna.  Some  of  them  struck 
and  scratched  each  other,  while  their  right  hands  clutched 
the  same  thousand  franc  note,  tearing  it.  Hats  rolled 
about  on  the  ground ;  the  hair  of  some  of  the  women  fell 
down  their  back,  or  was  scattered  in  a  cloud  of  false 
curls. 

"Me,  Prince!     Me!" 

And  with  clutching  fingers  they  danced  about  him, 
in  a  body,  as  though  possessed. 

"Who  wants  money?" 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  287 

The  head  employees  intervened,  angry  but  smiling, 
seeing  who  was  the  cause  of  the  disturbance.  "Your 
Highness,  please !  You  are  interrupting  the  play !  Such 
a  thing  has  never  happened  here  before."  But  he  con- 
tinued flinging  his  money,  until  he  had  exhausted  his 
winnings — more  than  sixty  thousand  francs — and  the 
games  went  on  again,  with  more  players  than  before. 
Every  one  who  had  gathered  something  from  the  floor 
or  caught  it  in  the  air,  ran  to  risk  it  on  a  card  or  a 
number. 

Michael  dwelt  on  this  memory  which  was  like  a 
triumph.  He  could  repeat  it  any  time  he  pleased;  he 
was  sure  of  it.  He  recognized  that  in  the  end  every 
gambler  finally  loses,  and  he  did  not  consider  himself 
an  exception  to  this  rule.  But  his  will  dominated  for- 
tune at  first,  and — by  withdrawing  in  time  before  the 
latter  had  a  chance  to  recoup  with  the  perverse  cunning 
of  an  untamable  female!  .  .  . 

The  Prince  finally  went  to  sleep  thinking  of  Alicia. 

"Poor  woman !  She  doesn't  know  how  to  play ;  Lewis 
is  right :  She  doesn't  know  how.  .  .  .  How  should  a 
beautiful  woman  know,  who  has  never  thought  about 
anything  save  her  own  person!  I  must  help  her.  I  am 
a  man.     Perhaps  to-morrow  .  .  .  to-morrow!"  .  .  . 

The  following  day,  at  the  breakfast  hour,  Don  Marcos 
had  a  great  surprise  which  worried  him  considerably. 
The  Prince,  who  never  bothered  about  money,  allowing 
his  "Chamberlain"  to  make  negotiations  directly  with  his 
Paris  manager  for  the  house  expenses,  asked  him  what 
amount  he  had  at  his  disposal. 

The  Colonel  made  a  mental  calculation.  He  did  not 
think  he  kept  just  then  any  more  than  fifteen  thousand 
francs.    He  was  expecting  a  check  from  the  agent. 

"Give  it  to  me,"  Lubimoff  commanded. 

And  immediately,  as  though  suddenly  recalling  some- 


288  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

thing,  he  calmly  mentioned  the  debt  he  had  contracted 
the  afternoon  before.  Toledo  was  thoughtful  for  a 
moment  on  learning  that  he  was  to  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  the  old  money  lender  to  return  the  twenty 
thousand  francs  and  the  payment  of  extraordinary  in- 
terest, which  might  double  in  a  few  days.  He  recalled 
the  luncheon  during  which  the  Prince  had  proposed  their 
present  solitary  life.  Where  were  the  ferocious  "ene- 
mies of  women"  now?  For  the  Colonel  suspected  that 
behind  these  squanderings  of  the  Prince  and  this  sudden 
passion  for  gambling,  lay  the  influence  of  some  woman. 
And  he  who  never  dared  stake  more  than  a  few  odd  coins 
from  time  to  time,  thinking  of  the  enormous  sums  en- 
trusted to  his  loyalty,  was  deeply  worried. 

While  Don  Marcos  was  on  his  way  to  the  bank  where 
the  house  money  was  deposited,  the  Prince  walked  about 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Casino,  waiting  impatiently 
for  the  rooms  to  open.  In  the  morning  the  crowd  was 
very  slight  and  very  few  tables  were  operating.  Only 
the  most  desperate  gamblers,  after  spending  a  sleepless 
night,  anxious  to  try  their  new  combinations  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  sickly  people  who  hoped  to  find  a  good  seat 
vacant,  came  at  that  early  hour. 

Impatiently  Lubimoff  entered  the  anteroom,  after 
secretly  thrusting  into  a  pocket  a  roll  of  bills  which 
Toledo  handed  to  him.  The  employees  of  the  first  shift 
were  arriving  slowly,  like  clerks  entering  an  office.  The 
cleaning  women  and  porters  in  shirt  sleeves  had  just 
swept  up  the  sawdust  scattered  on  the  floor.  They  all 
looked  at  him  from  the  comer  of  their  eyes,  pointing 
him  out  to  one  another  by  discreet  nudges.  Imagine 
the  Prince  there  at  that  hour,  when  people  of  his  station 
in  life  were  still  in  bed!  Instinctively  they  looked  all 
about  expecting  to  see  some  coyly  dressed  lady  waiting 
to  meet  him  unobserved  at  that  early  hour.     His  well- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  289 

known  reputation  did  not  permit  them  to  imagine  any- 
thing save  a  rendezvous. 

It  was  ten  o'clock.  The  "curtains  were  opened,  and 
Michael  entered  brushing  against  the  first  gamblers  to 
arrive,  modest  timid  folk.  He  felt  the  same  nervousness, 
impatience,  and  dull  anger  that  he  felt  on  the  mornings 
when  he  had  fought  duels.  He  walked  with  a  heavy 
step;  his  hands  kept  contracting  as  though  ready  to 
strangle  the  empty  air.  At  the  same  time  he  felt  the 
same  proud  confidence  of  a  marksman,  sure  of  hitting 
the  bull's-eye.  He  defied  Lady  Fortune  before  facing 
her,  the  wench  whom  he  had  once  conquered.  "By  God  I 
She  would  see  she  was  dealing  with  a  man  this  time !" 

He  jerked  a  chair  away  from  a  hand  already  stretched 
out  to  take  it,  and  sat  down  at  a  roulette  table,  between 
two  dirty,  badly  dressed  old  women,  who  looked  like 
witches.  The  employees  exchanged  looks  of  amazement, 
eying  one  another  discreetly.  The  Prince  betting,  and 
at  such  an  hour !  .  .  . 

"Faites  vos  jeux!" 

The  game  began.  Michael  had  no  particular  combi- 
nation and  had  not  thought  of  any.  His  eyes  wandered 
over  the  thirty-six  numbers,  but  only  for  an  instant. 

"That's  the  one,"  he  thought.  And  he  placed  all  that 
he  could,  nine  louis,  the  maximum,  on  thirteen. 

The  ball  spun  about  the  mahogany  border,  and  when 
it  finally  came  to  rest  was  greeted  with  a  murmur  of 
amazement.     "Number  thirteen." 

A  few  thousand  franc  notes  thrust  in  his  direction  by 
the  rake  of  the  croupier  remained  in  front  of  the  Prince, 
who  sat  there  impassively,  retaining  a  hard  willful  look. 
He  knew  it;  he  was  sure  he  was  making  no  mistake. 
Thirteen  once  more. 

People  looked  in  amazement.  What  folly  to  bet  twice 
on  the  same  number !     But  when  thirteen  won  a  second 


290  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

time  and  the  Prince  was  paid  the  maximum  again,  a 
murmur  from  the  crowd  applauded  the  victor.  Onlookers 
came  hurrying,  leaving  the  other  tables  devoid  of  spec- 
tators. This  was  going  to  be  as  famous  a  morning  in  the 
Casino,  in  spite  of  the  smallness  of  the  crowd,  as  the  most 
celebrated  afternoon  and  evening,  when  wealthy  players 
fought  with  luck. 

Lubimoflf  changed  his  number.  It  was  absurd  to  go  on 
with  thirteen.  And  he  placed  nine  touts  on  seventeen. 
The  ball  spun  around.  It  was  thirteen  once  more.  He 
lost. 

His  look  became  harder  and  more  aggressive.  Dame 
Fortune  was  beginning  to  laugh  at  him  for  his  lack 
of  will  power.  A  conqueror  should  feel  no  vacillation; 
it  was  his  fault,  for  having  given  up  his  number.  Men 
like  him  should  go  ahead,  and  impose  their  will,  or  perish 
without  abandoning  their  first  attitude.  Thirteen  as  be- 
fore! .  .  .  And  it  was  seventeen  that  won. 

For  a  moment  he  thought  the  ground  was  falling  away 
beneath  his  feet;  he  seemed  to  be  floating  in  air,  sur- 
rounded by  mysterious  forces  that  were  weakening  and 
finally  breaking  his  will.  He  passed  his  hand  over  his 
forehead,  as  though  trying  to  brush  away,  far  away, 
his  momentary  weakness. 

"The  she-devil,"  he  exclaimed,  mentally,  insulting 
Fortune,  sure  once  more  that  he  was  going  to  enslave 
her. 

And  he  went  on  playing. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  he  came  out  of  the 
Hotel  de  Paris.  He  had  lunched  alone,  without  paying 
any  attention  to  the  glances  he  had  received  from  other 
tables,  avoiding  friendly  greetings  that  might  have  started 
a  conversation. 

In  his  mouth  was  a  fat  cigar,  and  his  legs,  although 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  291 

perfectly  steady,  inwardly  felt  a  certain  voluptuous  sen- 
sation. The  food  had  been  bad ;  he  had  scarcely  touched 
the  dishes;  on  the  other  hand  he  had  drunk  a  bottle  of 
famous  Burgundy,  and  several  glasses  of  cordials  im- 
mediately after  finishing  two  cups  of  coffee. 

From  the  hotel  steps  he  gave  a  glance  of  destructive 
hate  at  the  square,  the  Casino  and  the  Gardens.  He 
thought  with  satisfaction  of  the  possibility  of  a  cruiser 
belonging  to  one  of  the  nations  which  were  carrying  on 
war  on  the  seas  of  Europe  anchoring  in  front  of  that 
gingerbread  house,  and  firing  a  few  shells  at  it.  What 
a  wonderful  sight!  Then,  in  his  imagination,  he  had  a 
landing  party  with  their  machine  guns  disembark,  to 
take  prisoner  all  the  people  who  were  filling  the  square, 
men,  women  and  even  children.  The  world  would  lose 
nothing  by  it.  What  a  city  of  corruption !  Why  the  devil 
had  his  mother  taken  it  into  her  head  to  buy  the  promon- 
tory of  Villa  Sirena,  obliging  him  to  live  near  this 
den  of  thieves?  He  even  upbraided  the  dead  Princess, 
with  the  stern  uncompromising  morality  of  every  gambler 
who  has  just  found  himself  tricked. 

As  he  glanced  over  the  gay,  well-dressed  crowd  that 
he  was  condemning  to  slavery,  he  saw  Alicia,  alone  and 
on  foot,  on  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  around  the  "Cam- 
embert,"  looking  at  the  Casino. 

"Are  you  going  in?"  he  said,  approaching  her. 

The  Duchess  became  indignant,  as  though  he  was 
proposing  something  humiliating,  something  that  she 
had  never  done  before.     She  enter  the  Casino? 

"It's  a  rotten  den,  and  the  employees  are  rotters,  and 
those  who  gamble — rotters  too." 

It  was  all  rotten!  After  saying  this  they  took  each 
other's  hands  as  though  they  had  just  suddenly  recognized 
each  other. 

When  Michael,  still  harping  on  his  kind  wishes,  told 


292  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

her  about  the  bombardment  and  landing  party  with  ma- 
chine guns  that  he  had  been  enjoying  in  his  imagina- 
tion, the  Duchess  almost  applauded.  As  far  as  she  was 
concerned,  she  would  be  very  glad  if  they  destroyed 
everything,  if  they  even  took  the  sovereign  Prince  him- 
self prisoner,  and  if,  into  the  bargain,  the  invaders  re- 
turned the  money  she  had  lost,  she  could  want  nothing 
better. 

Suddenly,  as  if  these  charitable  fantasies  of  Lubimoff 
told  her  of  something,  her  eyes  scrutinized  him  closely, 
much  like  those  of  a  suspicious  invalid  who  is  able  to 
recognize  his  own   symptoms  in  those  of  a  neighbor. 

"You  have  been  gambling." 

Michael  nodded  sadly. 

"And  you  have  lost,"  she  continued;  "that  goes  with- 
out saying :  I  don't  need  to  ask  you.    You,  gambling !" 

But  her  surprise  was  short. 

"You  have  been  gambling  for  my  sake:  I  have 
guessed  it.  You  said  to  yourself:  'I'm  going  to  win 
what  that  crazy  woman  loses;  men  know  more  than 
women.'  Oh,  my  poor  boy,  my  poor  boy,  how  grateful  I 
am  for  your  friendly  intention !  .  .  .  How  much  was  it  ?" 

On  hearing  the  sum  she  gave  him  a  look  of  compas- 
sion, but  smiled  immediately,  as  though  the  comradeship 
of  misfortune  made  her  own  losses  easier  to  bear. 

They  remained  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  she  ex- 
plained her  presence  on  the  square.  The  night  before  she 
had  sworn  she  would  never  again  come  near  the  Casino, 
but  habit  .    .    .    ! 

"I'm  alone.  Valeria  went  away  immediately  after 
lunch.  She  goes  around  like  a  crazy  woman  on  account 
of  that  scientist  you  have  at  your  house.  They  must 
have  made  an  engagement  somewhere.  All  she  talks 
about  is  Spain,  because  the  women  there  marry  without 
dowries.     As  fo*-  'the  Geoeral.'  don't  talk  to  me  about 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  293 

her:  I  don't  want  to  hear  her  name;  she  is  dead — dead 
forever,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned !  And  I'm  so  bored  all 
by  myself;  I  think  of  things  that  make  me  weep;  I  go 
out,  and  my  feet  take  me  here  without  my  realizing  it." 

Then  she  added  with  a  graceful  entreaty: 

"Take  me  somewhere,  wherever  you  feel  like.  Let's 
go  a  long  ways  from  here.    Where  can  we  go?" 

The  Prince  showed  the  same  hesitation.  They  contin- 
ually moved  in  the  same  circle,  from  their  houses  to  the 
center  of  Monte  Carlo,  the  Casino,  and  seemed  lost  if 
they  tried  to  go  any  farther.  The  war  had  done  away 
with  private  automobiles;  to  go  on  an  excursion  it  was 
necessary  to  get  a  permit  in  advance.  One  could  find 
nothing  save  carriages  drawn  by  feeble  horses,  rejected 
by  the  Army. 

"Suppose  we  go  to  Monaco?"  Alicia  proposed. 

Monaco  was  in  sight,  on  the  other  side  of  the  harbor; 
a  street  car  ran  from  there  to  Monte  Carlo  every  twenty 
minutes,  and  nevertheless  she  made  this  proposal  as 
though  speaking  of  some  remote  country. 

They  had  both  spent  some  twenty  years  there,  contin- 
ually seeing  the  rock  which  bore  on  its  crest  the  old  city 
of  the  Princes ;  but,  as  though  those  places  were  painted 
on  a  back  drop  in  the  theater,  it  had  never  entered  their 
heads  to  go  that  far.  Alicia  vaguely  recalled  a  visit  to  the 
Palace  of  the  Sovereign  and  another  to  the  Museum  of 
Oceanography,  without  being  able  to  formulate  her  im- 
pressions. Lubimoff  also  from  his  automobile  had  seen 
the  garden,  the  old  houses,  and  a  large  square,  the  one 
day  that  he  had  visited  the  Prince  of  Monaco  in  his  old 
castle. 

They  decided  on  the  trip  with  the  glee  of  school  chil- 
dren, and  when  the  Duchess  went  to  call  a  cab,  Michael 
showed  a  certain  hesitation  as  he  searched  through 
various  pockets. 


294  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

He  had  no  money.  He  had  dropped  it  all  in  the  rou- 
lette, absolutely  all.  At  the  hotel  he  had  asked  them  to 
charge  his  lunch,  handing  over  his  last  few  francs  to 
the  waiter  as  a  tip. 

Alicia  greeted  his  worried  look  with  bursts  of  laughter. 
Lubimoff  unable  to  pay  a  cabman!  Monte  Carlo  was 
the  only  place  where  you  could  see  things  like  that. 

"Poor  boy,  I'll  pay.  You  can  deduct  it  from  the  twen- 
ty thousand  I  owe  you.  No;  not  that,  no;  it  will  be  a 
gift.  You  have  given  women  so  much  money,  let  me 
be  the  first  to  pay  a  bill  for  you.  What. a  luxury!  I 
'keeping'  Prince  Lubimoff." 

They  had  gotten  into  the  carriage,  which  was  begin- 
ning to  descend  the  slope  toward' La  Condamine  harbor. 

"How  people  stare  at  us!"  said  Alicia.  "They  will 
think  I  am  carrying  you  off  by  force.  The  Duchess  de 
Delille,  ruined,  seduces  a  multi-millionaire  Prince  to 
make  him  her  lover  and  get  money  out  of  him  .  .  . 
and  they  don't  know  that  I  am  the  one  that  is  paying! 
Come  laugh  a  little.  Are  you  annoyed  that  I  should  pay  ? 
Don't  you  think  it  is  amusing?" 

She  talked  of  her  lack  of  foresight  and  her  folly  with 
a  certain  pride,  as  though  it  were  something  which  placed 
her  above  people  of  regular  habits.  The  evening  before 
she  had  been  afraid  of  not  having  enough  money  left  to 
buy  food  for  the  next  day.  But  Valeria  had  spent  the 
morning  making  valuable  discoveries  in  the  closets !  Bank 
notes  lost  among  the  clothes.  Casino  chips  forgotten 
among  the  books,  and  even  a  thousand  franc  bill  used 
to  wrap  up  an  old  cake  of  soap. 

She  suddenly  stopped  enumerating  these  finds. 

"Look!    Look!" 

They  were  beside  the  harbor.  She  pointed  out  a  lady 
who  was  walking  along  the  shore,  among  the  tall  rose-bay 
bushes  trimmed  in  the  shape  of  trees.    It  was  Clorinda. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  295 

A  gentleman  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  her  rose  from 
the  bench,  and  came  forward  to  meet  her.  They  both 
recognized  Atilio  Castro,  and  observed  how  he  and  "the 
General"  greeted  each  other,  and  how  they  continued 
their  promenade  together,  so  absorbed  in  mutual  contem- 
plation, that  they  did  not  notice  the  carriage. 

Michael  smiled  slightly.  Himself  there,  beside  Alicia, 
who  was  causing  him  to  commit  every  sort  of  folly ;  and 
the  other  man  waiting  there  for  Doiia  Clorinda's  arrival 
with  all  the  emotion  of  a  youth!  Poor  enemies  of 
women ! 

"Don't  talk  to  me  about  her!"  Alicia  exclaimed  in  a 
rage,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  her  companion  had  said 
nothing.  "I  hate  her.  .  .  .  Think  of  poor  Martinez 
forgotten.  She  quarrels  with  me  to  get  him,  takes  him 
away  from  me,  and  then  comes  in  search  of  Castro, 
while  the  other  unhappy  fellow  is  wandering  about 
Monte  Carlo.  What  a  woman!  She  has  done  me  so 
much  harm!     She  is  to  blame  for  everything." 

And  as  the  Prince  looked  at  her  with  a  questioning  air 
she  explained  her  complaints  with  a  tone  of  conviction. 
Her  losses  which  had  been  so  rapid  and  so  complete, 
could  not  be  explained  logically.  She  had  won  for  two 
weeks,  and  in  a  few  hours  had  lost  everything.  How 
could  that  be?  The  evening  before,  as  she  was  leaving 
the  Casino,  a  respectable  friend,  an  Italian  Marchioness, 
a  former  dancer,  who  was  very  wise  in  matters  of  luck, 
and  who  had  been  gambling  for  the  last  thirty  years  in 
Monte  Carlo,  had  revealed  to  her  the  cruel  truth :  "Duch- 
ess, there  is  some  one  who  hates  you;  an  envious  friend 
who  comes  to  your  house  and  has  cast  an  evil  spell  over 
you.  That  is  the  only  way  to  explain  what  has  happened. 
You  must  drive  out  the  evil  luck,  turning  it  back  on  the 
person  who  gave  it  to  you. 

"So  you  see  it  couldn't  be  clearer:  an  envious  friend 


296  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

who  comes  to  my  house — Clorinda;  it  can't  be  any  one 

else.  And  no  later  than  to-morrow  I  am  going  to  drive 
away  my  bad  luck,  in  the  way  the  Marchioness  recom- 
mended. Other  gamblers  follow  her  advice  and  are  very 
successful." 

It  was  the  Three  Wise  Kings  who  possessed  the  power 
of  undoing  evil  spells.  It  was  necessary  to  cleanse  away 
the  rooms  which  "the  General"  had  entered  by  burning 
in  a  small  pan  gold,  incense  and  myrrh,  the  three  pres- 
ents of  the  monarchs  who  had  come  from  afar.  She  had 
no  gold ;  it  was  inaccessible  on  account  of  the  war ;  but, 
according  to  the  Witch-Marchioness,  it  would  be  the 
same  if  she  burned  wheat. 

"And  at  the  same  time  recite  a  prayer  in  Italian,  a 
very  pretty  entreaty  to  the  Three  Kings,  that  sounds  like 
a  song,  that  says — that  says " 

Unable  to  remember  it,  she  opened  her  hand  bag. 
She  kept  the  prayer  in  her  coin  purse,  written  in  lead 
pencil  on  one  of  the  cards  furnished  by  the  Casino  to 
keep  track  of  bets.  Michael  looked  at  the  contents  of 
the  purse  with  the  curiosity  always  inspired  by  every 
object  belonging  to  a  woman  who  interests  a  man.  Be- 
side the  mussed  handkerchief  he  saw  a  little  leather  case, 
and  hanging  from  it  a  gambler's  fetish,  a  hand  with  the 
index  and  little  finger  extended  like  horns,  to  ward  off 
bad  luck.  But  beside  the  hand  there  hung  another  gold- 
en fetish,  of  such  an  unexpected,  unheard  of  form,  that 
Michael  refused  to  believe  what  had  passed  before  his 
eyes  like  a  rapid  vision. 

Alicia  drew  back,  pushing  aside  his  inquisitive  hand: 
*'No,  no !"  And  she  closed  the  purse  so  rapidly  that  the 
silver  rings  almost  caught  his  fingers.  Blushing  and 
smiling,  she  held  him  off,  giving  him  a  sly  look,  and  at 
the  same  time  shrinking  like  a  naughty  child. 

"It  is  a  gift  from  the  Marchioness.     The  best  she 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  297 

knows,  to  bring  luck.  Mine  has  gone.  That  is  all  you 
need  to  know.    How  curious  you  are !" 

And  while  she  pretended  to  be  somewhat  angry  in 
order  to  avoid  new  explanations,  Michael  recalled  the 
Rosary  of  Satan  belonging  to  his  friend  Lewis  and  its 
strange  ornaments. 

The  carriage  began  to  ascend  the  slope  towards  Mon- 
aco. The  ships  and  the  harbor  seemed  to  sink  with  each 
turn  of  the  wheel.  Verdant  shades  cooled  the  road, 
within  sight  of  the  luminous  sea  and  of  the  yellowish 
mountains,  that  were  taking  on  a  rosy  color  under  the 
afternoon  sun. 

Michael  explained  to  his  companion  the  strange  fea- 
tures of  the  promontory  that  serves  as  a  base  for  old 
Monaco.  On  the  Southern  part,  among  the  rocks  cov- 
ered with  century  plants  and  prickly  pear,  the  vegetation 
of  the  warm  countries  becomes  acclimated  with  a  facility 
that  if  one  takes  the  latitude  into  account  is  truly  extraor- 
dinary. On  his  visit  to  the  palace  of  the  Prince  he  had 
found  in  the  warmer  moats  of  the  fortress,  which  are 
like  natural  hothouses,  the  same  damp  sticky  heat  that 
one  finds  in  the  forests  of  Equador,  with  their  Brazilian 
palm  trees  that  rise  many  yards  in  quest  of  light.  On 
the  other  hand,  without  leaving  the  rock,  one  finds  on 
the  northern  side,  where  there  is  little  sunlight,  ferns 
from  the  cold  countries,  vegetation  from  the  Vosges 
Mountains,  which  got  here  no  one  knows  how,  and  took 
root  beside  the  Mediterranean. 

Alicia,  not  wishing  to  seem  less  informed,  talked  about 
the  San  Martino  Gardens.  She  had  not  seen  them,  but 
she  imagined  that  they  were  between  the  Museum  of 
Oceanography  and  the  Cathedral.  Valeria  had  not  been 
able  to  talk  about  anything  else  during  the  last  few  weeks, 
and  described  them  as  though  they  were  the  most  inter- 
esting gardens  in  the  world.    She  had  seen  them  in  good 


298  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

company,  and  this  had  exerted  a  strong  influence  on  her 
powers  of  vision.  It  was  doubtless  Novoa  who  had  re- 
vealed to  her  this  Paradise. 

"Supposing  we  were  to  meet  them !"  said  Alicia,  laugh- 
ingly. 

The  carriage  passed  between  two  little  towers,  capped 
with  tiles,  that  marked  the  entrance  to  the  walled  en- 
closure of  Monaco.  The  harbor  lay  far  below,  with  its 
boats  that  seemed  so  tiny.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
sheet  of  water  shone  the  cupolas  of  the  Casino  and  the 
many  Monte  Carlo  hotels,  with  their  multi-colored  fa- 
cades, the  windows  of  their  balconies  and  belvideres.  It 
was  impossible  to  make  out  the  people.  Automobiles 
were  gliding  along  like  tiny  insects  on  the  slope  that 
descended  to  La  Condamine. 

They  followed  the  asphalt  avenue,  between  two  nar- 
row dense  gardens,  leading  to  the  Museum  of  Ocean- 
ography. 

"Look  at  them!"  said  Alicia  with  an  expression  of 
triumph,  as  she  nudged  the  Prince  at  the  same  time. 

When  the  latter  turned  his  head  all  he  could  see  were 
two  indistinct  forms  hiding  in  a  side  path. 

"It  is  they,  you  may  be  sure,"  continued  the  Duchess, 
laughing.  "They  were  walking  in  the  middle  of  the  ave- 
nue. Valeria  is  very  quick;  she  turned  when  she  heard 
the  sound  of  a  carriage,  and  recognized  me  immediately. 
She  hurried  the  scientist  away  as  though  she  were  drag- 
ging him  along." 

She  stopped  laughing,  and  her  features  took  on  a  look 
of  sad  solemnity. 

"Happy  pair!  What  dreams!  We  have  all  gone 
through  the  same  thing.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  we  want 
to  keep  on  going  in  quest  of  something  further,  when 
we  ought  to  remain  satisfied  with  what  we  have." 

The  Prince  nodded,  repeating  briefly : 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  299 

"Happy  pair!" 

His  voice  sounded  like  a  requiem.  These  successive 
meetings  had  made  him  think  of  the  end  of  the  commun- 
ity of  which  he  was  the  ridiculous  head.  First  of  all, 
Castro;  then,  Novoa.  Even  the  Colonel  at  that  very 
moment  was  walking  up  and  down  in  front  of  a  millinery 
shop  waiting  for  the  gardener's  little  girl.  Spadoni  was 
the  only  one  left,  but  his  loyalty  counted  for  little.  As 
far  as  the  latter  was  concerned,  nothing  feminine  existed 
except  the  roulette  wheel. 

The  carriage  stopped  beyond  the  Museum  of  Ocean- 
ography, where  the  San  Martino  Garden  began.  Alicia 
paid  the  driver. 

"We  must  economize,"  she  said  gravely.  "We  shall 
return  on  foot." 

They  followed  a  network  of  winding  paths,  ascending 
and  descending  the  gulleys  of  the  slope.  The  tiny  pla- 
teaus had  been  converted  into  stone  lookouts,  from  which 
the  view  embraced  an  immense  expanse  of  sea.  Occa- 
sionally at  dawn  one  could  distinguish  the  distant  profile 
of  the  Mountain  of  Corsica.  Since  the  gardens  were  far 
above  the  Mediterranean,  the  horizon  line  was  so  high 
that  one  seemed  to  be  looking  upwards  when  viewing  it. 
The  pine  trees  rose  in  slender  black  colonnades  and  be- 
tween the  thin  trunks  one  could  see  the  dark  Mediterra- 
nean suspended  like  a  curtain.  Only  the  murmuring  tops 
of  the  sharp  trees  emerged  in  the  diaphanous  azure  of 
the  skies.  Below  the  vegetation  was  composed  of  wild 
hardy  plants  breathing  out  strong  odors,  plants  that  were 
unaffected  by  the  salty  exhalations  of  the  sea;  prickly 
pear,  lobes  of  which  were  surmounted  by  red  fruit; 
small  century  plants  whose  twisted  blades  intertwined 
like  tentacles  of  green  pulp. 

Alicia  admired  this  garden.  According  to  her  it  was 
a  maritime  garden,  in  harmony  with  the  nearby  Museum 


300  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

and  the  landscape.  The  trunks  of  the  trees  seemed  like 
the  masts  of  ships ;  the  plants  amassed  at  their  feet  had 
the  radiating  enveloping  form  of  the  monsters  of  the 
ocean  depths.  Other  vegetation  of  a  foreign  origin  re- 
called images  of  warm  countries,  and  of  distant  parts, 
filled  with  odors  and  swarming  with  crowds  of  yellow 
and  copper-colored  men.  Through  the  straight  trunks 
of  the  trees,  one  could  see  five  schooners,  motionless  on 
the  horizon  with  their  sails  hanging. 

A  train  of  smoke  followed  the  evolutions  of  a  slim  tor- 
pedo boat  steaming  around  the  white,  timid  flock,  like  a 
watch  dog. 

Looking  over  the  stone  balconies  one  could  peer  into 
the  ocean  to  enormous  depths.  The  bold  red  cliff  buried 
itself  vertically  in  the  waters  darkened  by  shadows,  or 
took  shelter  behind  landslides  of  rocks  continually  sur- 
rounded by  foam.  On  one  side  Cap-Martin  advanced, 
repelling  the  onrush  of  the  waves,  circles  of  white  caps 
that  constantly  succeeded  one  another,  rising  from  the 
azure  meadows;  still  farther  on  lay  the  Italian  coast, 
showing  rose-colored  through  the  melancholy  afternoon 
mist,  and  on  the  opposite  side  lay  Cap-d'Ail  and  Cap- 
Ferrat,  above  whose  backs  embossed  with  the  green  of 
the  seas,  and  dotted  with  the  white  of  the  villas — the 
golden  winding  sheet,  which  was  to  enshroud  the  dying 
sun,  began  to  rise. 

"Beautiful!  very  beautiful!" 

Alicia  displayed  a  girlish  delight.  They  sat  down  in 
view  of  the  sea,  slowly  drinking  in  the  vibrant  calm,  in 
which  mingled  the  trembling  of  the  pines,  the  deep  churn- 
ing of  the  invisible  foam,  the  breath  of  the  azure  plain, 
and  the  rustling  of  the  earth,  grazed  by  rosaries  of  ants, 
by  chains  of  caterpillars,  and  by  the  busy  work  of  the 
black  beetle,  and  at  the  same  time  deeply  stirred  by  the 
awakening  of  the  roots. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  301 

From  time  to  time  human  footsteps  sounded  on  the 
sand  of  the  winding  path.  They  came  from  invalids  or 
convalescents  who  were  passing  through  the  gardens  on 
coming  out  of  the  Museum ;  people  from  Monaco  return- 
ing to  their  homes  after  having  taken  the  sun  on  a  bench ; 
fat  housewives  who  kept  their  knitting  in  a  bag ;  old  men 
leaning  on  canes,  who  perhaps  had  never  gone  to  sea, 
but  who  looked  like  old  Genoese  sailors.  Also  a  few 
pairs  of  lovers  passed  slowly.  They  would  appear  at  a 
turning  of  the  path  with  their  arms  around  each  other's 
waists,  silent,  looking  at  each  other,  and  observing  that 
there  was  another  couple  on  the  bench,  they  unclasped, 
and  suddenly  pretended  to  be  carrying  on  a  conversa- 
tion. As  soon  as  possible  they  gained  the  nearest  turn- 
ing to  resume  their  tender  entwining,  not  without  having 
first  greeted  the  Prince  and  the  Duchess  with  a  smile,  as 
though  they  saw  in  them  another  pair  of  lovers. 

"And  just  to  think  that  we  have  never  come  here  be- 
fore!" said  Alicia.  "You,  at  least,  own  magnificent  gar- 
dens ;  but  I,  living  in  a  villa  which  is  simply  a  house  with 
a  few  trees  around  it  and  has  no  other  views  than  the 
opposite  building,  have  been  so  stupid  to  have  spent  the 
afternoon  in  the  Casino,  dark  and  shut  in  like  a  wine  cel- 
lar.   How  awful!" 

She  shuddered  on  thinking  of  the  Casino.  It  seemed 
impossible  to  her  now  that  during  the  very  hours  when 
this  garden  lay  stretched  out  beside  the  sea,  with  its 
luminous  sylvan  splendor  she  should  have  been  able  to 
live  in  that  half  light  of  artificial  illumination  or  in  that 
nasty,  unwholesome  atmosphere. 

"There  are  many  beautiful  things  in  the  world,"  she 
continued,  "for  which  money  is  not  necessary.    Just  to 
thfnk  that  if  we  had  not  lost  we  would  not  be  here!    It 
is  almost  better  to  be  poor." 
Michael  laughed  at  her  earnestness.     No;  it  was  not 


302  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

pleasant  to  be  poor;  but  she  was  right  in  saying  that  to 
enjoy  many  beautiful  things  it  was  not  necessary  to  have 
money. 

"We,  ourselves,"  she  added,  after  a  long  pause,  "have 
known  each  other  only  since  we  lost  our  wealth.  Who 
knows  but  what  if  we  had  been  born  poor  we  would  have 
understood  each  other  better  when  we  were  young!  I 
have  often  thought  so." 

Of  course !  And  since  Michael  had  been  there  on  the 
bench,  beside  her,  he  had  been  thinking  the  same  thing. 
Alicia's  joy  at  the  splendor  of  the  afternoon,  her  enthu- 
siasm on  seeing  this  rustic  garden  overlooking  the  sea, 
far  from  certain  people,  without  whom  she  formerly 
would  have  thought  life  intolerable,  far  from  gambling, 
which  was  the  only  remedy  to  fill  the  emptiness  of  her 
life — all  this  flattered  and  delighted  the  Prince,  like  a 
discovery  in  harmony  with  his  desires.  At  present  he 
saw  her  in  a  very  different  light  from  that  in  which  he 
had  imagined  her  in  former  years.  And  he,  too,  surely 
seemed  like  a  very  different  person  in  her  eyes  than  he 
had  in  the  past.  Before,  they  had  been  separated  by  an 
enormous  wall,  wealth,  that  gave  rise  to  pride  and  eager- 
ness for  domineering. 

He  felt  the  need  of  going  on  talking.  Something  was 
surging  within  him,  causing  words  to  rise  to  his  lips  in 
an  irresistible  tide. , 

A  voice  within  seemed  to  warn  him.  "You  are  going 
to  commit  some  monstrous  folly.    Look  out! — You  are 

on  the  road  to  mixing  up  your  life  again "    It  was  the 

old  Lubimoff  in  him  that  was  talking ;  the  Lubimoff  who 
had  recently  arrived  from  Paris  to  take  refuge  in  his 
Ark,  far  from  the  vain  longings  that  make  up  the  happi- 
ness of  the  majority  of  men;  it  was  the  stern  chief  of 
the  "enemies  of  women." 

But  the  harsh,  mournful  inner  voice  awoke  no  echoing 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  303 

response.  The  Prince  despised  this  phantom  that  still 
remained  within  him,  lamenting  over  the  ruins  it  found 
there. 

Up  to  that  moment  he  had  been  inhaling  with  delight 
the  perfume  of  that  woman.  It  seemed  to  mingle  with 
the  perfumes  of  the  afternoon,  communicating  its  essence 
to  all  Nature.  He  saw  the  sky,  the  sea,  the  trees,  and 
everything  in  fact  in  terms  of  her,  as  though  she  filled 
all  space. 

He,  too,  had  made  a  discovery  that  afternoon.  He 
thought  with  horror  of  the  loneliness  of  Villa  Sirena, 
just  as  she  had  been  thinking  of  the  Casino.  These  gar- 
dens which  every  one  might  enjoy,  seemed  to  him  more 
beautiful  than  those  he  owned,  and  which  every  one  en- 
vied him.  How  had  he  ever  been  able  to  walk  around 
his  villa,  through  its  magnificent  and  lonely  avenues, 
when  there  existed  in  the  world  the  marvelous  pleasures 
of  sitting  on  a  public  bench  beside  a  woman,  or  walking 
close  to  her,  with  an  arm  around  her  waist,  like  those 
poor  soldiers  and  sailors? 

Once  more  he  heard  the  voice:  "Fine,  Prince!  In 
love  like  a  school-boy  when  you're  over  forty.  Go  on 
with  your  foolishness,  if  it  amuses  you!  .  .  .  What 
would  the  other  'enemies  of  women'  say  ?" 

But  he  refused  to  listen  to  this  last  protest  from  the 
other  hostile  and  forgotten  half  of  his  personality. 

"Our  life  has  been  a  mistake,"  he  said  aloud,  with  a 
certain  vehemence,  in  order  not  to  show  his  emotion. 
"You,  too,  must  realize  that  I  think  the  same — that  I 
acknowledge  my  error — because  I — ^because  I,  for  some 
time — have  been  in  love  with  you!  .  .  .  Well,  I  have 
said  it !    Now  laugh  if  you  like." 

She  did  not  feel  like  laughing.  She  gave  a  slight  ex- 
clamation, looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  turned  away 
as  though  avoiding  the  questioning  glance  in  his  eyes. 


304  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

She  had  had  a  presentiment  that  this  was  coming,  sooner 
or  later,  but  her  breath  was  taken  away  on  actually  hear- 
ing it! 

There  was  a  long  silence. 

"What  is  your  answer?"  the  famous  Prince  Lubimoff, 
adored  by  so  many  women,  finally  asked  with  timidity. 

Alicia  looked  at  him  again. 

"Aren't  you  joking?  Isn't  it  a  mere  whim  inspired 
by  the  beauty  of  this  afternoon — so  poetic?" 

Michael  protested  with  a  gesture.  How  could  she 
take  as  a  caprice  the  grave  decision  that  he  had  finally 
reached  after  so  long  and  difficult  a  debate  within,  the 
way  one  evolves  a  truly  great  decision! 

"If  I  were  like  most  women,  I  would  reply:  'How 
many  women  have  you  said  the  same  thing  to?'  But 
such  a  question  is  stupid.  One  may  have  said :  *I  love 
you/  to  a  woman,  in  all  sincerity  and  some  time  later  re- 
peat the  same  words  to  another,  with  still  more  sincerity. 
I'm  not  going  to  ask  you  to  how  many  you  have  said  what 
you  have  just  said  to  me.  Perhaps  you  never  said  it  to 
any  one  before.  To  fulfill  your  desires  it  wasn't  neces- 
sary to  exert  yourself,  playing  a  comedy  of  deep  affec- 
tion: they  sought  you  passionately;  like  a  Sultan,  you 
needed  only  to  throw  your  handkerchief  as  a  signal.  .  .  . 
But  when  it  comes  to  me !  Remember,  Michael :  as  chil- 
dren we  hated  each  other ;  later  on,  when  I  was  willing, 
you  were  not.  And  now  we  are  beginning  to  grow  old ! 
Now  that  I  possess  only  the  remains  of  what  I  once  was 
and  haven't  the  same  freedom  any  longer,  since  I  have — 
you  know  what  .  .  .  !  It  is  absurd,  and  that  is  why  I 
laugh.    No :  never !" 

It  was  the  Prince's  turn  to  speak.  They  had  hated 
each  other,  that  was  true,  and  now  he  considered  that 
hate  as  fortunate.    What  a  misfortune  for  both  of  them 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  305 

if  marriage  had  united  their  two  enormous  fortunes  and 
their  two  prides,  more  enormous  still. 

"We  would  have  separated  a  week  later;  perhaps  the 
same  day,"  Michael  continued,  "I  even  suspect  that  I 
would  have  beaten  you." 

"And  I  you,"  said  the  Duchess.  "No  place  would  have 
been  large  enough  to  hold  us  both.  It  would  have  been 
necessary  for  one  of  us  to  give  in  to  the  other.  And 
neither  one  of  us  would  have  thought  of  making  such  a 
sacrifice." 

"I  might  say  the  same,"  he  continued,  "about  the  night 
when  we  dined  together.  I  am  glad  of  my  absurd  and 
ridiculous  conduct  on  that  occasion.  Had  I  given  in, 
there  would  be  an  invincible  barrier  between  us  now ;  we 
would  never  have  met  again,  and  we  would  not  be  here 
saying  to  each  other  what  we  are  saying  now." 

She  assented. 

"We  would  not  be  here,  that  is  certain.  You  would 
have  kept  a  frightful  memory  of  me;  I  know  very  well 
what  I  was  like  then.  Neither  would  I  have  sought  you 
out,  even  though  my  life  depended  on  it.  Thanks  to 
your  flight  that  evening  we  can  still  be  friends,  eternal 
friends,  brothers  if  you  like ;  but  why  do  you  talk  to  me 
about  love  ?  It  doesn't  belong  to  our  age.  The  time  has 
passed.  What  do  you  see  in  me  now  that  you  did  not 
when  I  was  young?" 

"I  see  your  misfortune." 

The  voice  of  the  Prince  sounded  grave  and  deeply  sin- 
cere as  he  said  this. 

He  had  reflected  for  a  long  time,  before  answering, 
when  he  had  asked  himself  the  same  question  as  Alicia's. 
He  was  sure  that  he  had  begun  to  love  her  the  day  when 
she  had  come  to  Villa  Sirena  to  confess  her  ruin  and  to 
ask  him  to  forget  her  debt  to  him.    Poor  Duchess  de  De- 


3o6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

lille,  accustomed  to  spending  millions  each  year,  the  pro- 
prietress of  precious  mines,  and  having  to  live  by  gam- 
bling like  an  adventuress !  .  .  .  Afterwards,  beside  her 
bed,  seeing  her  tears,  and  listening  to  the  great  secret  of 
her  life,  the  hidden  motherhood  that  had  made  her  weep, 
he  had  become  definitely  conscious  of  this  love.  During 
the  last  few  days,  seeing  her  victorious  in  the  Casino,  his 
love  had  been  clouded ;  he  cared  less  for  her.  Later,  find- 
ing her  ruined  and  sick  with  sadness,  his  affection  was 
renewed ;  and  to  help  her,  he  had  even  become  a  gambler, 
he,  who  was  incapable  of  doing  this  even  for  his  own' 
salvation ! 

"You  can't  understand  me ;  you  are  a  woman.  Often  in 
my  life,  other  women  have  said  to  me,  after  some  unex- 
plainable  act  of  theirs:  'It  is  useless  to  try:  men  can 
never  succeed  in  understanding  us,'  I  say  the  same :  A 
woman  cannot  understand  a  man  either.  I  love  you  now 
because  you  inspire  pity  in  me,  and  pity  leads  to  tender- 
ness and  tenderness  is  true  love,  love  such  as  I  have  never 
felt  before.  Each  one  loves  in  his  own  way.  The  ma- 
jority of  women  need  to  feel  proud  when  they  love ;  the 
person  they  love  must  arouse  the  envy  of  others  through 
being  brave,  handsome,  wealthy  or  talented,  Man  al- 
most always  loves  through  pity,  through  tender  compas- 
sion inspired  by  woman.  He  never  feels  more  in  love 
than  when  a  woman's  head  reclines  against  his  breast 
with  the  abandon  of  weakness ;  and  when  his  hand  is  bur- 
ied in  her  hair,  it  finds  a  tiny  delicate  head — smaller  than 
he  had  ever  imagined — a  head  that  is  filled  with  divine 
words,  irresistible  charms,  and  noble  impulses,  but  which 
rarely  has  that  force  of  thought  which  makes  man  su- 
perior to  her.  Her  adorable  arms  are  not  strong  enough 
to  protect  her.  And  man,  seeing  her  so  lovely  and  so 
weak,  feels  his  passion  increase  with  pity  and  the  desire 
to  protect  her." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  307 

"No,"  she  said.  "Woman,  too,  knows  the  meaning  of 
compassionate  love.  A  man  for  whom  she  feels  indiffer- 
ence suddenly  interests  her,  when  she  sees  that  he  is  un- 
happy; and  a  woman,  who  hates  her  lover  one  day,  re- 
turns to  him  the  next,  when  she  feels  that  he  is  in  danger. 
She  never  speaks  more  tenderly  than  when  she  says,  'My 
poor  little  boy !'  " 

The  Prince  assented  with  a  gesture.  That  was  all  very 
well.  But  immediately  he  returned  to  the  subject  which 
interested  him. 

"To-day  we  both  know  misfortune ;  I,  as  well  as  you, 
since  I  have  lost  what  distinguished  me  from  other  men, 
and  which  I  shall  never  perhaps  recover.  But  your  situa- 
tion is  still  worse ;  you  are  a  woman,  you  are  poorer,  and 
I  feel  attracted  to  you  and  tell  you  what  I  never  would 
have  told  you  if,  shut  up  within  our  own  pride,  we  had 
both  kept  our  former  places  in  the  world." 

He  went  on  talking  in  a  soothing  tone  almost  in  her 
ear,  coming  closer  to  her,  and  breathing  the  perfume  of 
the  fur  boa  around  her  neck,  which  seemed  to  have  con- 
centrated in  itself  the  perfume  of  her  whole  body. 

He  repeated  what  he  had  thought  in  the  nights  when 
he  had  struggled  with  his  former  dread;  thoughts  that 
he  had  vigorously  resumed  shortly  before,  as  he  was  sit- 
ting silently  by  her  side  in  the  carriage.  He  talked  of 
the  future.  They  might  still  be  happy;  the  love  he  of- 
fered her  was  of  the  quiet,  lasting  kind;  an  autumnal 
love,  a  love  that  would  be  for  all  time,  with  no  dramatic 
complications,  peaceful,  tranquil,  sweetly  uneventful,  like 
the  long  winter  evenings  beside  a  fire. 

She  laughed  with  a  pained  expression. 

"You  forget  who  I  am ;  you  talk  as  though  the  past  did 
not  exist,  as  though  you  were  not  yourself  and  as  though 
all  the  stories  that  weigh  against  my  name  did  not  exist. 
If  some  one  else  were  to  make  me  this  proposal,  who 


3o8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

knows!  ...  I  am  weary  and  the  thought  of  a  quiet 
future  attracts  me.  But  you !  .  .  .  With  you  it  would 
be  impossible :  It  would  end  disastrously.  I  prefer  that 
we  be  friends,  without  any  thought  of  love.  It  is  safer 
and  more  lasting." 

On  seeing  his  look  of  dismay,  Alicia  went  on  talking. 
She  was  not  afraid  of  living  with  him  because  of  what 
people  might  say.  It  is  true  that  she  had  a  husband,  who 
now  in  the  throes  of  a  senile  passion  would  refuse  to 
grant  her  a  divorce.  But  what  did  she  care  for  an  ob- 
stacle like  that,  or  for  what  people  would  say  about 
it!  .  .  .  She  had  done  more  daring  things  in  her  life! 

"It  is  simply  that  I  do  not  want  to.  Don't  ask  me  why : 
I  could  not  explain  it  to  you ;  or  I  should  say,  you  would 
not  understand  me.  I  repeat  what  other  women  have 
said  to  you :  'You  are  a  man,  and  cannot  understand 
women.'  No,  I  don't  want  to.  I  shall  speak  more  plain- 
ly: Another  man  might  succeed  in  interesting  me — I 
don't  know.  We  are  so  weak!  Our  wills  play  us  such 
strange  tricks !  But  with  you,  no.  .  .  .  We  know  each 
other  too  well:     It  is  impossible." 

Michael  spoke  in  a  tone  of  sadness  and  chagrin. 

"I  don't  interest  you :  that  is  easy  to  see." 

Alicia  once  more  laughed  heartily  and  with  one  of  her 
hands  she  tapped  those  of  the  Prince  which  were  clasped 
together. 

"Silly !  Do  you  really  think  I  don't  care  for  you  at  all. 
If  I  felt  indifferent  toward  you  would  I  have  sought  you 
formerly,  and  would  I  be  here  with  you  now?" 

He  was  disconcerted.  "Well,  then?"  And  he  made 
an  effort  to  discover  what  obstacle  stood  in  the  way  of 
his  desire.  If  it  was  on  account  of  what  had  happened  in 
her  past  life,  he  had  forgotten  it.  He,  Prince  Lubimoff, 
had  had  many  affairs  that  it  was  better  not  to  recall. 

"Let's  not  talk  about  the  past  at  all.    You  are  a  differ- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  309 

ent  woman.  I  know  what  your  life  has  been  during  the 
last  few  years;  besides,  the  other  morning  you  told  me 
what  you  have  been  since  your  son  began  to  live  by  your 
side.  I  take  you  from  the  time  you  recognized  the  seri- 
ousness of  life,  on  seeing  beside  you  a  man  formed  from 
your  own  flesh  and  blood.  I  have  forgotten  the  Venus  of 
former  years,  the  Helen  of  the  'old  man  on  the  wall,'  I 
desire  you,  seeing  you  as  you  are  to-day,  the  Venus  Sor- 
rowful, weeping,  suffering  and  in  need  of  consolation  and 
care  that  will  sustain  and  sweeten  life." 

She  stopped  smiling.  Her  lips  trembled  with  a  pitiful 
expression  of  gratitude;  her  eyes  were  moist  with  tears. 

"No,"  she  said  in  a  humble  voice.  "It  is  impossible  for 
that  very  reason.  My  son !  How  my  son  has  changed 
me !  I  know  what  all  this  love  means.  We  are  not  two 
children  to  be  deceived  by  dreams  of  purity  and  talk 
about  the  soul  and  heaven,  while  our  bodies  are  drawn  to- 
gether by  a  natural  impulse.  If  I  accept  your  love,  I 
know  what  that  means  at  once,  perhaps  before  the  dawn- 
ing of  a  new  day.  Can  you  imagine  such  a  thing?  My 
son, — I  don't  know  where  he  is,  perhaps  he  is  dead.  At 
least  he  is  suffering  at  the  present  moment  hardships 
which  a  beggar  woman  would  not  allow  a  son  of  hers  to 
suffer,  and  I,  in  the  meantime,  abandoning  myself  to  a 
great  love,  to  a  passion  such  that  it  would  absorb  all  my 
time  and  thoughts,  as  though  I  were  still  in  my  early 
youth.  .  .  .  Oh,  no!  How  shameful!  I  know  what 
love  between  us  fatally  demands,  and  it  frightens  me.  I 
feel  powerless  in  the  face  of  things  which  formerly 
seemed  to  me  as  nothing.  You  have  spoken  the  truth: 
I  am  a  different  woman." 

The  Prince  regained  hope  on  learning  the  nature  of  the 
obstacle.  Her  son  was  still  aHve:  he  was  sure  of  iti 
He  had  written  to  the  King  of  Spain  and  to  influential 
friends  of  his  in  Paris ;  he  had  even  sent  letters  to  Ger- 


310  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

many  through  diplomatic  channels.  They  might  find 
him  any  moment;  he  would  succeed  in  returning  him  to 
his  mother's  side.  Why  should  the  poor  boy  stand  in 
the  way  of  both  their  futures?  Her  son  knew  life;  the 
years  that  he  had  spent  with  his  mother  had  familiar- 
ized him  with  the  irregularities  which  are  so  common  in 
the  world  of  the  fortunate.  He  would  not  consider  it 
unusual  for  her,  submitting  to  a  marriage  that  was  not  a 
lie,  to  rebuild  her  life  discreetly  with  a  man  whom  she 
had  known  since  her  youth.  Besides,  he  would  love  him 
like  a  younger  brother.  He  could  count  on  influential 
friends  capable  of  helping  the  boy  if  he  wanted  to  work. 
When  he  died  what  was  left  of  his  fortune  would  go 
to  him. 

Alicia  clasped  one  of  his  hands  with  the  tenderness  of 
gratitude.  "How  good  you  are!"  But  suddenly  she 
dried  her  tears,  and  her  eyes  shone  with  a  glow  of  energy 
that  seemed  to  reflect  her  struggle  with  herself,  and  she 
continued,  in  a  firm  tone : 

"No,  no.  I  don't  want  to.  I  am  looking  to  the  imme- 
diate future :  to  what  would  happen  to  us  if  I  gave  in  to 
your  glowing  words ;  I  can  see  my  son — or  I  should  say, 
I  cannot  see  him,  I  don't  know  what  has  become  of  him, 
I  don't  know  whether  or  not  he  is  alive.  I  tell  you 
no.    It  is  useless  for  you  to  insist." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  A  soldier  passed  with  his 
head  bandaged  beneath  his  kepis  and  a  flower  behind  his 
ear.  He  was  smiling  at  a  red-faced  girl,  who  was  leaning 
on  his  arm.  They  were  both  humming  a  tune.  The 
Prince  and  the  Duchess  separated  slightly  on  the  bench, 
and  remained  in  silence,  he,  looking  on  the  gfround,  ab- 
sorbed and  frowning,  she,  with  her  eyes  on  the  horizon 
line,  following  the  slow  progress  of  the  schooners,  the 
sails  of  which  were  filling  with  the  breeze  that  announced 
the  coming  twilight. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  311 

The  obstinacy  with  which  Michael  kept  his  eyes  riveted 
on  the  ground  caused  Alicia  to  make  a  mistake.  Her 
ankles  showed  somewhat  owing  to  her  posture  and  her 
short  skirt;  trim  ankles  with  the  whiteness  of  her  skin 
visible  through  the  meshes  of  snuff-colored  silk, 

"You  are  looking  at  my  stockings?"  she  asked,  her 
mood  suddenly  changing  from  sadness  to  gaity.  "Look. 
What  you  see  on  the  side  there  is  not  embroidery,  it  is 
darning.  My  maid  mends  them  nicely.  What  can  you 
expect?    We  are  poor." 

And  doubtless,  for  the  sake  of  amusing  her  frowning 
companion,  she  went  on  to  enumerate  in  gay  tones  the 
various  difficulties  arising  from  her  poverty.  Oh,  the 
war,  with  the  terrible  cost  of  living !  Silk  stockings  were 
so  bad !  One  got  holes  in  them  after  putting  them  on 
once,  and  they  came  only  at  fabulous  prices.  She  pre- 
ferred to  prolong  the  existence  of  those  that  she  had 
kept  since  the  days  of  her  wealth,  because  they  were 
stronger.  She  might  say  the  same  of  her  dresses.  It  had 
been  two  years  since  her  wardrobe  had  received  any  re- 
plenishing, so  frequent  before. 

"We  are  poor,"  she  repeated,  with  mock  solemnity. 
"Besides,  we  are  fond  of  gambling,  and,  like  all  gamblers, 
we  lose  thousands  of  francs  and  economize  on  the  little 
things  that  make  life  pleasant." 

She  had  been  waiting  for  an  enormous  stroke  of  luck 
after  which  she  would  stop  playing  and  begin  to  think 
again  of  the  wardrobe. 

But  the  Prince,  by  his  gestures  and  the  expression  on 
his  face  gave  her  to  understand  how  little  he  was  inter- 
ested in  these  confidences.  It  was  useless  for  her  to  try 
and  change  the  conversation.  Michael,  offended  by  Ali- 
cia's negative  reply,  was  still  absorbed  in  his  question. 
Perhaps  with  another  man  she  would  have  shown  her- 
self more  clement. 


312  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

She  realized  that  she  must  return  to  the  subject  which 
interested  her  companion,  and  said  with  masculine  frank- 
ness: 

"I  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you.  I  am  going  to 
forget  we  belong  to  different  sexes  and  talk  to  you  like 
a  comrade,  just  as  I  talked  to  you  that  night  in  my  study. 
I  know  the  life  you  are  leading;  I  know  also  all  about 
the  'enemies  of  women' :  a  silly  idea.  What  you  need, 
after  several  months  of  living  alone  like  a  maniac,  is  a 
woman.  Choose  from  those  about  you;  you  can  find 
them  whenever  you  like,  younger  and  more  beautiful  than 
I,  who  am  beginning  to  see  myself  as  I  am.  Why  do 
you  choose  me?  Why  do  you  disturb  my  tranquillity, 
now  that  I  have  forgotten  all  about  such  things?" 

The  Prince  smiled  bitterly  at  the  suggested  remedy. 
He  had  often  thought  of  it.  The  censor  that  he  kept 
within  had  repeated  the  same  advice:  "Find  a  female, 
and  it  will  all  pass  away  immediately;  a  woman  who  in- 
spires only  a  momentary  interest ;  no  women  and  no  love 
complications.  Do  what  you  recommended  to  Castro." 
He  had  frequented  the  Casino  with  the  resolute  air  of  a 
slaughter-house  man  about  to  choose  his  prey  from  the 
flock.  He  would  glance  over  the  troop  of  girls  in  the 
gambling  rooms,  who  kept  one  eye  on  the  green  baize, 
while  with  the  other  they  watched  the  men  who  were 
walking  about  behind  them. 

He  felt  physically  attracted  by  certain  women ;  by  one, 
because  of  her  features,  by  another,  because  of  her  fig- 
ure or  stature,  and  by  some,  because  of  their  strange 
ugliness  or  stimulating  irregularity  of  form  and  fea- 
ture, which  affected  his  nerves  much  as  sharp  or  biting 
food  affects  the  palate.  He  had  had  only  to  make  a  sign 
or  say  a  brief  word  to  many  who,  seeing  themselves  no- 
ticed by  that  famous  person,  smiled  ready  to  follow  him. 
But  suddenly  he  felt  the  dislike  which  is  inspired  by 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  313 

things  repeated  to  the  point  of  satiety,  and  by  the  empti- 
ness of  what  is  familiar  to  the  point  of  weariness.  He 
could  not  expect  anything  new;  he  was  horrified  at  the 
thought  of  the  vain  prattle  of  an  unknown  woman  desir- 
ous of  appearing  interesting;  of  the  lies  inspired  by  a 
sudden  and  false  sentimentality ;  and  by  the  gross  animal- 
ism of  the  pairing  which  would  end  the  tiresome  prelim- 
inaries. No;  he  couldn't.  Only  once,  with  a  desperate 
energy  of  a  patient  gulping  down  a  disgusting  medicine, 
he  had  followed  one  of  these  beautiful  animals,  and 
shortly  afterwards  he  felt  disgusted  with  his  baseness 
and  ashamed  of  his  backsliding. 

"It  is  you;  you  and  no  one  else,"  he  said  gloomily. 
"You,  or  no  one." 

Alicia  replied  in  the  same  grave  tone.  She  knew  by 
experience  what  this  meant.  "We  desire  with  greater 
eagerness  what  is  impossible  for  us  to  obtain;  we  single 
out  as  unique  whatever  is  beyond  our  grasp." 

But  these  reasonings  exasperated  Lubimoff  to  the  ex- 
tent of  making  him  unjust. 

"I  know  you,"  he  said,  drawing  nearer  on  the  bench,  as 
he  gazed  at  her  more  closely,  with  angry,  passionate  eyes. 
"I  know  what  you  women  are  like;  you're  all  vain  and 
revengeful.  You  can't  forget  the  evening  you  wanted 
me  and  I  was  not  willing,  and  now  you  are  taking  de- 
light in  my  torment ;  you  enjoy  making  me  suflfer." 

"Oh,  Michael !"  she  interrupted,  in  a  tone  of  protest. 

The  Prince  continued  to  express  his  rancour,  and  his 
indignation  stirred  Alicia  more  than  the  humble  question 
of  a  few  moments  before.  It  was  the  desperate  pleading 
of  a  patient  who  is  past  recovery  and  desires  to  return 
to  normal  life. 

"I  love  you.  ...  I  need  you.    I'll  get  you !" 

Above  the  promontory  of  Cap-d'Ail  the  orange-colored 
globe  of  the  sun  was  descending.    Its  lower  edge  was  al- 


314  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ready  touching  the  undulating  line  of  garden  and  build- 
ings. For  a  moment  its  rays  were  concentrated  in  a 
sheaf  seen  through  the  colonnade  of  a  pergola,  as  though 
showing  itself  through  an  arch  of  triumph  before  dying. 
A  dark  azure  light  seemed  to  emerge  from  the  sea  driving 
the  fading  gold  of  the  afternoon  from  the  gardens. 

"No!  .    .    .    No,  I  won't!" 

Alicia's  voice  suddenly  broke  the  vibrant  silence  with 
the  tremulousness  of  surprise,  and  immediately  changed 
to  a  long  gasp,  as  though  something  were  weighing  on 
her  lips.  Michael  had  thrown  both  his  arms  around  her 
shoulders,  mastering  her,  drawing  her  breast  forward, 
pressing  it  against  his  own.  His  lips  sought  hers,  but 
she  made  an  effort  to  resist,  by  turning  away  with  a 
violent  straining  of  her  neck.  Finally  the  moan  of  pro- 
test ceased.     Both  heads  remained  motionless. 

"Michael  .  .  .  Michael!"  she  sighed,  freeing  herself 
for  a  moment  from  the  caress.  But  a  moment  later  she 
submitted  again  to  those  lips  which  pursued  hers  so 
eagerly. 

She  spoke  in  a  tone  of  surrender.  She  was  suddenly 
back  in  her  past  life,  trembling  at  the  contact  of  all  those 
foreign  things  which  seemed  absolutely  new  through  long 
continence.  His  ardent  lips  had  overpowered  her,  awak- 
ened her  from  a  dream  that  had  lasted  for  years,  in  a 
sleep  longer  and  deeper  than  Michael's. 

She  forgot  everything  around  her.  Her  eyes  were  still 
open  but  the  vision  of  the  sea,  the  golden  sunset  in  the 
sky,  and  even  the  pine  boughs  forming  a  canopy  above 
their  heads,  had  disappeared  from  her  gaze. 

Suddenly  she  saw  them  all  once  more,  and  at  the  same 
time  she  drew  back  her  shoulders  repelling  him. 

"No,  I  won't  .  .  .  Stop!  They  might  see  us.  How 
crazy  of  us !" 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  315 

The  Prince  was  an  athlete,  but  his  emotion  weakened 
him.  Besides,  his  energy  was  scattered  in  the  double 
effort  of  trying  to  master  the  woman  and  at  the  same 
time  of  enjoying  her  caress  in  the  overwhelming  fury  of 
passion.  She  bent  and  straightened  several  times,  with 
all  the  suppleness  of  a  reptile,  finally  succeeding  in  es- 
caping from  the  chain  of  his  arms,  as  she  gave  a  sigh  of 
weariness  and  relief. 

Lubimoff,  coming  to  himself  again,  saw  Alicia  stand- 
ing in  front  of  him,  smoothing  her  disordered  clothing, 
and  raising  her  hands  to  her  hair,  to  her  tilted  hat  and 
her  boa,  which  was  slipping  from  her  shoulders. 

"Let  us  go,"  she  said,  with  angry  brevity. 

And  the  Prince  followed  her,  crestfallen,  repenting  his 
violence.  After  walking  a  few  steps,  she  seemed  moved 
by  his  silence,  which  showed  his  repentance,  and  smiled 
again : 

"It  is  quite  evident  that  from  now  on  I  must  not  see 
you  alone.  I  forgot  that  you  were  a  sailor,  accustomed 
to  making  port  in  a  hurry  without  caring  to  lose  any 
time."  They  walked  along  slowly,  in  a  tranquillity  like 
that  of  the  serene  twilight. 

On  leaving  the  gardens,  they  found  themselves  cut  off 
by  the  Museum.  Must  they  return  by  the  way  they  had 
come?  Michael  discovered  on  one  side  of  the  building 
a  rustic  stairway  cut  at  intervals  in  the  rock,  the  hollows 
of  which  were  filled  with  brick  steps.  It  descended  to 
the  edge  of  the  sea  in  various  flights  of  stairs,  and  at  the 
farther  end,  a  walk  following  the  edge  of  the  coast  led  to 
the  harbor. 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment  at  the  archway  of  the  en- 
trance. 

"I  warn  you,"  she  said,  shaking  her  finger  at  Michael^ 
''that  if  you  return  to  your  old  tricks,  I  shall  call  for 


3i6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

help.  Do  you  promise  me  you'll  be  good?  Word  of 
honor?  .  .  .  All  right;  go  on  ahead:  I  don't  trust 
you." 

He  went  ahead  down  the  stairway  to  explore.  The 
walls  of  the  Museum  seemed  to  expand  as  they  continued 
to  descend.  Besides  the  building  with  its  roof  at  their 
feet,  there  was  a  second  building  below,  rising  with  its 
stone  walls  pierced  by  large  windows,  from  the  rocky 
slopes.  At  a  turn  of  the  path,  the  Prince  faltered  to  wait 
for  his  companion.  She  was  slowly  descending,  main- 
taining a  distance  of  several  steps  between  them.  Her 
feet  were  higher  than  Lubimoff's  head,  and  it  was  only 
necessary  for  the  latter  to  raise  his  eyes  slightly  to  see 
the  stockings  the  darning  in  which  Alicia  had  explained. 

With  the  lightness  of  a  spring  released,  he  slipped  up 
the  various  steps  that  separated  them. 

"Michael!  I'll  shout!"  she  exclaimed  on  seeing  him 
coming,  and  she  held  out  her  hands  to  repel  him,  trying 
at  the  same  time  to  flee. 

With  his  arms  he  had  embraced  the  lower  part  of  that 
adorable  body.  He  could  not  climb  any  further ;  Alicia's 
hands  repulsed  his  head  with  a  nervous  violence.  And 
he  in  passionate  madness  pressed  his  lips  to  her  feet 
and  her  ankles,  kissing  her  skirts  wherever  he  could 
reach  them. 

She  was  angry  at  feeling  that  she  could  not  stir  and 
would  be  unable  to  escape. 

"Let  me  go!    It's  ridiculous!    Stop!" 

The  Prince's  hat  rolled  down  the  steps,  knocked  off 
by  a  blow  from  her  slender  hands,  as,  blindly,  she  de- 
fended herself. 

This  incident  brought  him  to  his  senses.  Yes;  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  was  ridiculous.  And  as  he  saw  that 
Alida  intended  to  retrace  her  steps,  returning  to  the  gar- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  317 

den,  Michael  to  inspire  her  confidence  ran  down  the  stair- 
way without  turning  his  head,  to  see  whether  she  was 
following  him. 

They  met  at  the  edge  of  the  sea,  on  the  wide  path  that 
wound  among  the  loose  rocks  bordered  with  foam,  and 
the  nearly  vertical  walls  of  the  cliff.  The  flat  places  and 
hollows  in  the  stone  had  been  made  use  of,  on  this  prom- 
ontory, that  had  so  few  soft  surfaces,  to  construct  the 
few  houses  that  sheltered  the  families  of  the  employees 
in  Monaco.  Along  the  upper  edge  of  the  cliff  appeared 
the  green  line  bordering  the  lofty  gardens  and  cut  at  in- 
tervals by  the  old  works  of  fortification. 

They  were  the  sloping  bastions,  with  sentry  posts,  like 
those  one  sees  in  old  engravings  or  in  stage  settings. 
Huge  stone  facings  with  Latin  letters  sang  the  praises 
of  the  various  sovereign  Princes,  who  had  built  these 
costly  works  of  defense,  now  antiquated  and  worthless. 
Lubimoff  expected  to  see  appear  from  these  sentry  posts 
a  grenadier  in  a  white  uniform  with  scarlet  facings, 
wearing,  above  his  black  mustache  and  powdered  wig, 
a  golden  miter. 

They  walked  slowly  along  in  the  twilight.  Above  them 
shone  the  orange  light  of  the  setting  sun,  casting  a  mild 
red  glow  on  the  jutting  rocks,  the  trees,  and  the  white  and 
yellow  facades  of  the  buildings.  At  the  edge  of  the  sea, 
the  shadow  was  a  deep  blue  shade,  like  moonlight  shad- 
ow. The  sky,  blood-red  in  the  West,  was  invisible  for 
them  behind  the  rocky  cliffs  of  Monaco.  They  could  see 
it  only  in  the  direction  of  Italy,  and  there  it  was  growing 
darker  and  denser  every  minute,  preparing  for  the  first 
luminous  piercing  of  the  stars. 

They  met  various  fishermen  who  were  returning  home 
loaded  down  with  baskets  and  nets. 

Alicia  felt  worried  in  certain  bends  of  the  path  so  com- 


3i8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

pTetely  deserted.  Later,  on  seeing  a  house  or  a  passerby- 
approaching,  she  resumed  the  conversation.  What  she 
was  afraid  of  was  stopping  along  the  way,  and  sitting 
down  with  the  Prince  on  the  little  parapet  bordering  the 
seashore.    In  the  meantime  they  continued  walking! 

Without  protesting,  she  allowed  LubimofI  to  put  his 
arm  in  hers,  leaning  upon  it.  He  expressed  such  deep 
humility!  He  seemed  repentant  for  the  liberties  he  had 
taken ;  and  asked  her  forgiveness  with  a  pale  smile.  Be- 
sides, he  talked  to  her  about  her  son  with  soothing  optim- 
ism. All  her  fears  were  unfounded;  her  son  would  re- 
turn: he  was  sure  of  it.  She  would  receive  good  news 
almost  any  moment,  f>erhaps  that  very  night. 

Her  George  was  a  man,  and  no  matter  how  much 
he  might  love  his  mother,  some  day  he  would  fall  in  love 
with  another  woman  whom  he  would  care  for  more  deep- 
ly, and  would  build  up  a  separate  existence,  like  all  the 
rest. 

"And  you,  who  may  still  consider  yourself  young,  you, 
who  have  the  right  to  long  years  of  happiness,  do  you 
want  to  give  up  everything  like  an  old  woman?  Why? 
Why  be  in  a  hurry  about  that?" 

She  bowed  her  head  without  knowing  what  to  reply, 
and  her  emotion  was  such,  that  she  made  not  the  slightest 
movement  when  his  arm  freed  itself  from  hers  and  en- 
circled her  waist.  Thus  they  walked  along,  closely  linked, 
forming  a  single  body,  taking  step  after  step  mechani- 
cally, without  watching  where  they  were  going.  With  his 
eyes  fixed  on  hers,  he  closely  watched  her  face,  hoping 
for  a  glance,  or  a  monosyllable  that  would  mean  accep- 
tance. Alicia  was  afraid  of  meeting  those  imploring 
eyes,  and  turned  her  own  away. 

"Tell  me  yes,"  Michael  murmured,  "tell  me  that  you 
will.  It  isn't  for  nothing  that  we  have  met ;  it  is  not  for 
nothing  that  you  sought  me  out.    We  shall  rebuild  our 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  319 

lives  that  have  been  so  nearly  wrecked  by  our  vanity  and 
pride.  Let  us  be,  although  it  is  rather  late,  what  we 
ought  to  be  to  one  another." 

"No,"  sighed  Alicia.    "I  can't  .    .    .  My  son!  .    .    .** 

And  immediately  afterwards  she  hastened  to  murmur, 
as  though  repenting: 

"Yes;  perhaps  .  .  .  later  .  .  .  but  not  now.  How 
shameful !  When  my  mind  is  at  ease,  when  I  don't  feel 
this  worry  that  is  killing  me.  I  love  you ;  is  that  enough  ? 
I  love  you." 

These  two  words  sufficed  the  Prince.  He,  who  had 
gone  to  the  farthest  extreme  of  domination  with  so  many 
women  without  ever  feeling  satisfied,  contented  himself 
with  these  brief  words,  which  sounded  in  his  ears  like 
happy  music. 

Instinctively,  his  arm  dropped  below  her  waist,  while 
his  other  arm  drew  her  head  to  one  of  his  shoulders. 

There  was  a  kiss,  a  long  kiss,  without  either  of  them 
pausing  in  their  walk.  Alicia  offered  no  resistance,  and 
shortly  afterwards,  her  lips,  animated  by  a  feverish 
awakening,  responded  to  his  kiss,  making  it  more  pas- 
sionate, more  vibrant  and  endless.  She  no  longer  felt 
any  fear ;  they  were  walking  along,  and  it  was  impossible 
for  her  lover  to  repeat  the  liberties  he  had  dared  to  take 
in  the  garden.  Moreover,  she  inwardly  confessed,  with 
a  certain  shame,  the  delight  aroused  in  her  by  that  vio- 
lence. 

"I  love  you!"  she  sighed,  without  knowing  what  she 
was  saying.  "I  love  you ;  but  not  that,  no !  Let  us  love 
each  other  like  children.  It  is  ridiculous  at  our  age — 
but  so  sweet." 

At  that  moment  Lubimoff's  spirit  was  like  her  own. 
This  simple  kiss  seemed  to  him  the  greatest  pleasure  he 
had  ever  known.  Life  opened  up  enchantments  of  which 
he  had  never  dreamed.     It  seemed  to  him  that  he  was 


320  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

gazing  on  the  most  beautiful  landscape  in  the  world. 
How  interesting  were  the  old  fortifications!  What  a 
great  man  Albert  of  Monaco  was  to  build  that  lonely- 
asphalt  path,  so  that  he  might  walk  along  it  with  his  lips 
pressing  the  lips  of  a  woman. 

They  walked  along  as  though  they  were  intoxicated,  in 
a  continual  zigzag  between  the  parapet  and  the  wall  of 
the  cliff,  their  lips  pressing,  their  eyes  almost  touching, 
as  though  nothing  existed  beyond  them,  and  they  actually 
imagined  that  they  were  walking  in  a  straight  line.  From 
a  distance  one  would  have  thought  they  were  two  adver- 
saries struggling,  staggering,  as  they  jostled  each  other 
in  the  fight. 

Suddenly  mastered  by  desire,  he  stopped  and  refused 
to  go  on. 

"No,  no !" 

Her  will  still  shaken  by  her  recent  emotion,  Alicia  pro- 
tested at  this  danger,  but  she  forced  herself  to  reiterate 
her  refusal. 

His  lips  had  separated  from  hers.  There  was  an  ag- 
gressive gleam  in  his  half -shut  eyes.  His  hands  fell  upon 
her  hips,  and  clinched  like  claws. 

"I  won't :  I  told  you  I  won't !    Come !" 

She  struggled  in  his  arms  with  the  agility  of  a  gym- 
nast, and  in  breaking  free  from  his  grasp  there  was  a 
sound  of  tearing  clothes. 

"Look,  you  villain !     Look  what  you've  done !" 

She  was  standing  motionless,  a  few  steps  away,  with 
her  fur  boa  falling  from  one  of  her  shoulders,  while  at 
the  other  she  was  looking  for  the  tear  that  her  dress  had 
just  suffered. 

Michael,  behind  her,  saw  that  one  sleeve  was  almost 
torn  away,  giving  a  glimpse  of  her  white  flesh,  and  the 
seductive  hollow  under  her  arm. 

He  repented  his  violence,  and  the  clumsiness  of  his 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  321 

hands,  which  like  those  of  a  drunken  sailor  broke  what 
he  caressed. 

Once  more  Alicia  took  pity  on  his  childish  embarrass- 
ment. 

"No,  don't  worry  about  that.  It  is  a  dress  I  have  had 
for  two  years :  it  is  so  old,  that  it  tears  just  by  looking" 
at  it.  That  is  one  of  the  inconveniences  of  walking  with 
a  beggar." 

But  she  finally  became  worried  by  this  tear  which  was 
so  visible.  She  was  going  to  enter  Monte  Carlo  on  foot 
or  by  street  car.  What  would  people  say,  seeing  her  in 
such  a  state! 

"A  pin :  have  you  got  a  pin  ?" 

This  request  increased  the  remorse  of  the  Prince. 
Where  could  a  man  find  a  pin  ?  While  Alicia  was  feeling 
for  one  without  avail,  he  thought  of  returning  to  the 
Museum  or  scaling  the  rocks  to  one  of  those  houses 
where  the  employees  of  the  Prince  live.  He  would  have 
given  a  hundred  francs  for  a  pin — ^but  he  remembered 
that  his  pockets  were  empty. 

He  began  to  search  his  clothes  while  she  searched  hers, 
although  he  was  certain  that  it  would  be  useless. 

Suddenly  he  smiled  triumphantly. 

"Here  is  your  pin." 

It  was  from  his  necktie !  A  famous  pearl,  admired  by 
the  women,  and  which  he  had  never  been  willing  to  give 
away,  because  it  was  a  gift  of  the  Princess  Lubimoff. 

He  was  obliged  to  mend  the  tear  at  the  shoulder  him- 
self, sighing  with  vexation. 

"You  don't  know  how,"  said  Alicia  laughing,  "Look 
out  that  you  don't  prick  me.    How  clumsy!" 

But  he  finally  felt  glad  of  his  clumsiness.  He  had  to 
touch  her  naked  arm  with  his  fingers;  and  he  quivered 
as  he  touched  the  soft  skin,  which  preserved  in  its  vel- 
vety shadows  a  certain  mystery  of  passion. 


3212  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Look  out!"  she  called.  "Don't  go  back  to  your  old 
tricks :  I  shall  get  angry.  It  is  all  right  as  it  is.  Come 
on!" 

She  threw  her  scarf  over  the  clumsy  repair,  and  the 
pearl,  which  stood  out  against  it,  with  odd  magnificence. 
They  were  walking  along  once  more,  without  any  new 
attempted  audacities  on  Michael's  part.  The  last  inci- 
dent had  made  him  circumspect.  Inwardly  he  called 
himself  names,  considering  himself  a  savage,  incapable 
of  living  among  real  ladies. 

As  they  reached  the  last  bend  they  left  the  azure  shade 
of  the  cliff.  Above  their  heads  extended  the  last  angle 
of  the  bulwarks,  and  a  stone  sentry  post;  across  the 
harbor,  with  its  mouth  flanked  by  two  illuminated  towers, 
and  on  the  opposite  bank  rose  the  heights  of  Monte 
Carlo,  with  its  huge  buildings,  and  its  glistening  cupolas, 
which  were  reflecting  the  last  rosy  fire  of  the  twilight. 

They  both  halted  instinctively.  In  the  middle  of  the 
harbor,  the  yacht,  the  white  yacht  of  the  Prince  of 
Monaco,  lay  motionless,  tugging  at  her  buoy.  Beside 
the  nearby  dock  a  few  latine  rigged  boats  were  pitching, 
moving  their  single  mast,  and  a  Spanish  steamer,  dis- 
playing its  neutral  flag,  was  unloading  sacks  of  rice,  and 
barrels  of  wine.  The  presence  of  various  groups  of 
men  gathered  in  front  of  the  boat  made  them  prudent. 
They  were  no  longer  alone.  Once  more  they  had  entered 
the  life  of  the  City. 

"How  short  the  road  was!"  exclaimed  the  Prince. 

She  thought  the  same.    "Yes ;  how  short !" 

They  could  no  longer  walk  together.  It  was  necessary 
to  say  good-by  there,  far  from  the  crowd. 

Alicia  held  out  both  hands. 

■"Nothing  more  ?"  sighed  Michael. 

The  Duchess  hesitated  a  moment.  Then,  with  the 
agility  of  a  young  girl,  as  though  she  were  still  the  wild 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  323 

Amazon  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  she  sprang  for  his 
open  arms. 

"There,  there,  and  there!" 

There  were  three  rapid  fiery  kisses,  that  only  lasted  for 
a  second ;  three  kisses  that  made  Lubimoff  think  he  had 
never  felt  one  in  all  his  life,  since  he  had  never  expe- 
rienced the  quivering  that  swept  his  body  from  head  to 
feet. 

"More !    Give  me  more !" 

She  laughed  at  his  imploring  look. 

"Enough  folly.  Another  time,  who  knows ! — For  the 
present  I  am  worried  again,  I  am  afraid  to  enter  my 
house :  I  feel  terror  and  hope.  Oh,  the  news  that  I  may 
receive  at  any  moment!  Tell  me;  do  you  really  think 
that  nothing  has  happened  to  him  ?  Do  you  think  he  may 
come  back?" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Spadoni  entered  Novoa's  room  with  the  intention  of 
getting  him  to  talk.  At  present  he  was  an  ardent  be- 
liever in  the  professor's  knowledge,  and  seeing  him  well 
disposed  toward  gambling  and  inclined  to  meditate  on 
its  mysteries,  he  hoped  with  simple  faith  that  the  scientist 
would  discover  something  miraculous,  some  brilliant  idea 
that  would  make  them  both  wealthy.  On  that  account 
the  pianist  arose  earlier  than  he  was  wont,  to  surprise 
the  professor  during  his  toilet,  considering  this  the 
proper  time  for  matters  of  confidence. 

"The  word  'chance,'  "  said  Novoa,  "is  a  term  devoid 
of  meaning;  or,  I  should  say  rather,  chance  does  not 
exist.  It  is  an  invention  of  our  human  weakness,  our 
ignorance.  We  say  that  a  phenomenon  takes  place  by 
chance  when  the  causes  either  are  unknown  to  us  or  seem 
impossible  to  analyze.  We  are  ignorant  of  the  causes  of 
the  majority  of  things  that  occur  and  we  get  out  of  the 
difficulty  by  attributing  them  to  chance." 

The  musician  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  his  olive  fea- 
tures contracted  with  a  look  of  respectful  attention.  He 
did  not  understand  the  scientist's  words  very  clearly,  but 
he  admired  them  in  advance,  as  a  prelude  to  revelations 
which  would  be  more  practical,  and  of  immediate  appli- 
cation. 

"Every  phenomenon,"  continued  Novoa,  "no  matter 
how  slight  it  seems,  has  a  cause,  and  the  man  with  an 
infinitely  powerful  brain,  infinitely  well  informed  of  the 
laws  of  Nature,  would  be  capable  of  foreseeing  every- 
thing that  might  happen  within  a  few  minutes  or  within 

324 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  325 

a  few  centuries.  With  a  man  like  this  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  play  any  gambling  game.  Chance  would  not 
exist  for  him.  Having  the  secret  of  the  small  causes 
that  at  present  escape  our  intelligence,  and  a  knowledge 
of  the  laws  that  control  their  combinations,  he  would 
know  absolutely  everything  that  might  arise  from  the 
mystery  of  a  pack  of  cards  or  from  the  numbers  of  a 
roulette  wheel.    No  one  could  hope  to  win  from  him." 

"Oh,  Professor!"  sighed  the  pianist,  in  admiration. 

Inwardly  he  prayed  that  his  illustrious  friend  would 
go  on  studying.  Who  knows  but  what  a  professor  might 
become  that  all-powerful  person,  and,  taking  pity  on  a 
poor  pianist,  allow  him  to  follow  in  his  trail  of  glory! 

Novoa  smiled  at  Spadoni's  simplicity  and  went  on 
talking. 

"The  number  of  facts  which  we  attribute  to  chance 
(and  chance  is  nothing  but  a  fictitious  cause  created  by 
our  ignorance)  varies,  in  the  same  ratio  as  our  igno- 
rance varies,  according  to  the  times  and  according  to  the 
individual.  Many  things  which  are  chance  for  an  unedu- 
cated person,  are  not  chance  for  a  man  of  learning. 
What  is  chance  to-day  will  not  be  perhaps  within  a  few 
years.  Scientific  discoveries  finally  diminish  consider- 
ably the  domain  of  chance,  just  as  our  ignorance  de- 
creases." 

The  pianist's  face  beamed  with  a  rapt  expression. 

"You  are  a  great  scholar,  Professor,  a  great  scholar! 
.  .  .  Don't  shake  your  head ;  I  know  what  I'm  saying. 
I  have  a  feeling  of  certainty  that,  if  you  go  on  studying 
these  important  matters,  you  will  find  a  system 
which  ..." 

The  Spaniard  interrupted  him,  pointing  to  a  pack  of 
cards  on  a  nearby  table.  It  was  easy  to  guess  that  he 
had  been  studying  during  the  night,  before  going  to  bed. 
These  cards  were  for  Spadoni  evidence  of  scientific  stu- 


326  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

diousness,  worthier  of  respect  than  all  the  books  from 
the  library  of  the  Prince,  which  lay  forgotten  in  the  cor- 
ners. At  present  the  Professor  was  interested  in  the 
mysteries  of  chance,  and  Spadoni  was  certain  that  he 
would  discover  something  better  than  anything  which  had 
been  invented  thus  far  by  ordinary  gamblers. 

But  his  hope  vanished  at  Novoa's  gesture  of  dismay. 

"Look  at  that  pack  of  cards:  A  few  pieces  of  card- 
board and,  nevertheless,  they  contain  the  immensity  of 
the  universe !  They  cause  in  one  the  feeling  of  dizziness 
inspired  by  the  Infinite,  just  as  when  you  look  upward 
with  a  telescope  or  downward  with  a  microscope.  Do 
you  know  how  many  combinations  can  be  made  with  a 
pack  of  fifty-two  cards?  I  don't  know  how  to  express 
it:  nor  will  you  find  the  figure  in  a  dictionary  or  an 
arithmetic,  as  it  is  useless,  since  it  lies  beyond  human 
calculations.  Let  us  coin  the  word :  eighty  unidecillions, 
or  the  figure  eight  followed  by  sixty-six  ciphers.  Two 
men  who  began  to  play  with  a  pack  of  fifty-two  cards  and 
played  a  hand  every  minute,  each  hand  being  different, 
would  not  be  able  to  exhaust  all  the  possible  combinations 
in  five  million  centuries." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  as  though  the  walls  of  the 
room  had  shrunk  under  the  weight  of  these  inconceivable 
numbers.     Spadoni  bowed  his  head. 

"Now,  tell  me,"  continued  the  Professor,  "what  can 
a  poor  human  being,  with  all  his  calculations  of  probabili- 
ties, do  against  this  infinity!" 

And  seizing  a  handful  of  cards,  he  let  them  fall  again 
like  a  whispering  rain  of  colors  on  the  table. 

"Everything  depends  on  chance,"  he  added,  "or  I 
should  say,  on  error.  We  lose  through  error  and  win 
through  it  likewise.  Our  error  is  the  result  of  an  infinity 
of  infinitesimal  errors  due  to  another  infinity  of  small 
causes,  the  analysis  of  which  we  cannot  even  attempt. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  327' 

These  tiny  causes  are  all  independent  of  one  another,  and 
since  they  are  directed  by  chance,  they  operate  in  one  way^ 
as  readily  as  in  another.  When  the  infinitesimal  is  posi- 
tive, it  causes  us  to  win,  when  it  is  negative,  we  lose." 

Spadoni  nodded  his  head,  although  he  scarcely  under- 
stood. The  one  thing  clear  to  him  were  the  infinitesi- 
mal errors  which  cause  us  to  lose.  He  was  acquainted 
with  them;  they  were  like  microbes,  malevolent  germs, 
which  always  clung  to  him.  He  wished  that  his  learned 
friend  might  discover  an  antiseptic  that  would  put  an 
end  to  them.  1 

"Besides,"  said  Novoa,  "if  there  are  probabilities  of 
winning,  these  probabilities  are  in  proportion  to  the 
wealth  of  the  gamblers.  A  poor  gambler  has  less  chance 
of  winning  than  one  who  has  capital  at  his  disposal.'* 

"Then,  how  about  us?"  the  musician  asked  in  a  mel- 
ancholy voice. 

"We  are  the  under  dogs  and  were  bom  to  be  vic- 
tims. Gambling  is  an  image  of  life :  the  strong  triumph 
over  the  weak."  ' 

Spadoni  remained  thoughtful. 

"I  have  seen  wealthy  gamblers,"  he  said,  "who  were 
finally  ruined  like  the  rest." 

"Because  they  don't  stop  in  time,  at  the  point  where 
the  resisting  power  of  their  capital  brings  the  hour  of 
winning.  In  life,  as  well,  the  great  devourers,  soldiers, 
multi-millionaires,  and  rulers,  are  in  turn  devoured  in 
the  final  leveling:  death.  But  before  that  time,  they 
triumph  through  a  powerful  means  that  fate  has  placed 
in  their  hands.  We  who  are  poor,  never  triumph  con- 
tinuously for  a  whole  day.  Trying  to  win  a  great  for- 
tune with  small  capital  is  equivalent  to  wanting  to  lose 
that  small  capital." 

They  both  fell  silent,  discouraged;  but  Novoa  seemed 
to  have  suffered  the  contagion  of  his  companion's  dreams, 


328  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

and  felt  the  necessity  of  bolstering  him  up  again  with 
some  fantastic  meditation  fit  for  a  gambler. 

"You  know,  Spadoni,  ho\\r  much  one  can  win  with  a 
thousand  francs?  Last  night  I  undertook  to  make  the 
calculation." 

He  pointed  to  a  piece  of  paper  covered  with  figures 
which  was  protruding  from  among  the  cards.  So  Novoa 
was  up  to  the  same  tricks  as  the  pianist ! 

"With  a  thousand  francs,  doubling  each  time  in  forty- 
three  games  (some  four  hours),  one  could  win  a  block 
of  gold  a  hundred  thousand  million  times  as  large  as  the 
sun." 

i    "Oh,  Professor!" 

(  They  both  looked  at  each  other  with  mystic  ardor,  as 
though  they  were  actually  contemplating  this  immeasur- 
able block.  Beside  such  a  vision  what  did  the  winnings 
of  a  few  paltry  milHons  mean? 

Toledo  was  beginning  to  realize,  little  by  little,  the 
gradual  transformation  of  his  friend,  the  scientist. 
*  Novoa  was  greatly  interested  in  his  personal  appear- 
ance; he  had  asked  the  Colonel  to  recommend  him  to 
his  tailor  in  Nice ;  and  the  Professor  made  frequent  trips 
to  the  latter  city,  merely  to  make  purchases. 
'  Besides,  he  was  gambling.  Don  Marcos  frequently 
surprised  him  besijie  a  table  in  the  Casino,  standing  and 
meditating  before  risking  one  of  the  few  chips  which  he 
held  tightly  in  his  hand.  He  seemed  dazzled  by  the 
ease  with  which  he  won.  The  amounts  were  small,  but 
so  large  in  comparison  with  those  which  he  had  received 
for  his  previous  work  as  a  Professor!  In  half  an  hour 
he  could  win  a  month's  salary.  In  an  afternoon  he  had 
succeeded  in  amassing  three  thousand  francs;  half  a 
year's  work  at  teaching  and  in  the  laboratory. 

Monte  Carlo  seemed  to  him  an  interesting  place  and 
life  there  a  quiet  relaxation,  which  stood  out  above  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  329 

grave,  laborious  monotony  of  his  previous  existence.  The 
Museum  of  Oceanography  could  wait ;  it  would  not  move 
away  during  his  absence  from  the  point  on  the  rock  of 
Monaco.  The  science  of  maritime  zoology  was  not  go- 
ing to  be  revolutionized  in  a  few  months.  And  when 
the  director  saw  him  with  a  gay  excited  look  enter,  from 
time  to  time,  the  quiet  silent  atmosphere  of  the  Museum, 
and  when  he  observed  his  gay  clothes,  and  the  closeness 
with  which  he  followed  men's  style,  he  sadly  shook  his 
head.  Novoa  was  not  the  first.  Oh,  Monte  Carlo !  The 
old  professors  looked  with  the  stern  face  of  prophets  at 
the  city  opposite.  Young  men  who  arrived  from  vari- 
ous places  in  the  world  to  study  the  mysteries  of  the 
ocean,  ended  by  making  mathematical  calculations  on  the 
probabilities  of  roulette. 

"Besides,  he  is  in  love,"  said  Castro,  communicating 
to  Toledo  his  impressions  in  regard  to  Novoa.  "When 
he  isn't  gambling  he  is  with  that  Valeria  woman." 

They  were  engaged.  The  professor,  with  an  air  of 
mystery,  had  told  this  to  all  his  friends,  asking  each  one 
to  keep  the  secret.  After  idle  gallantries  as  a  student, 
this  was  the  first,  the  great  love  of  his  life.  He  was 
worried  somewhat  by  the  humbleness  of  his  position. 
When  they  were  married  what  would  Valeria  say  on 
learning  how  little  he  earned  as  a  scientist?  But  im- 
mediately he  placed  his  hope  on  gambling,  the  undreamt 
of  fortune  which  at  present  offered  itself  each  day. 

"If  this  goes  on  a  few  months,"  he  told  the  Colonel, 
*T  will  have  gotten  together  a  tidy  little  sum  before  I 
have  completed  my  studies.  Every  day  I  lay  something 
aside,  and  nevertheless  I  am  spending  more  than  ever. 
I  must  dress  smartly  like  my  fiancee." 

And  Don  Marcos  replied  with  an  ambiguous  smile. 

Novoa's  happiness  was  accompanied  by  a  certain  pride. 
He  considered  his  future  life  companion  a  great  lady,  of 


330  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

higher  intellectual  capacity  and  capable  of  more  serious 
pursuits  than  the  majority  of  women  of  her  class.  She 
was  poor,  and  for  that  reason,  accepted  a  position  border- 
ing on  that  of  a  servant  But  seeing  her  on  familiar 
terms  with  the  Duchess,  he  considered  her  of  as  high 
rank  as  the  latter,  and  finally  blended  the  affairs  of  both 
women  in  a  common  interest.  And  since  Dona  Clorinda 
was  at  present  an  implacable  enemy  of  Alicia's,  and  since 
Atilio  blindly  espoused  the  whims  and  ideas  of  "the 
General,"  a  hidden  animosity  began  to  spring  up  between 
the  two  men,  who  up  to  that  time  had  treated  each  other 
with  amiable  indifference. 

"Women!"  murmured  Toledo  on  observing  the  prog- 
ress of  this  dislike.    "The  Prince  was  right.  ..." 

But  other  more  important  preoccupations  tormented 
the  Colonel.  The  greatly  feared  offensive  had  begun. 
The  telegrams  from  the  front  were  brief  and  bad.  The 
Allies  were  retreating  before  the  German  advance.  Their 
lines  were  not  broken,  but  were  wavering,  and  curving 
backwards  under  the  overwhelming  blows  of  the  enemy. 
Every  day  dozens  of  villages  and  great  stretches  of  terri- 
tory were  lost. 

Don  Marcos,  with  the  bursts  of  anger  of  a  Polytechnic 
freshman,  protested  against  the  lack  of  foresight  of  the 
Generals,  mingling  his  complaints  with  those  of  the 
crowd. 

"I  knew  it  would  come,"  he  said,  with  a  self-suflEicient 
air  to  the  groups  of  idlers  in  the  ante-room  of  the  Casino, 
where  he  was  listened  to  because  of  his  military  title. 
"The  Kaiser  has  massed  in  France  all  the  troops  that  he 
had  in  Russia.  Who  wouldn't  have  expected  it?  And 
our  forces  are  doubtless  inferior  in  numbers." 

The  bombardment  of  Paris  finally  routed  all  his  ideas 
of  strategy.  "Lies !"  he  roared,  standing  in  front  of  the 
telegraphic  despatches  on  the  bulletin  board,  and  reading 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  331 

of  the  first  shells  that  had  fallen  in  Paris.  It  was  im- 
possible: he  was  ready  to  stake  his  word,  and  was  well 
informed  as  to  the  range  of  modern  artillery.  And  on 
learning  the  existence  of  cannon  that  fired  more  than  a 
hundred  kilometers,  he  was  disconcerted.  "What  times 
we're  living  in !    What  a  war  this  is !" 

When  the  ladies  consulted  him  in  the  Casino  or  in  the 
Hotel  de  Paris,  he  displayed  unshakable  optimism  in  the 
face  of  the  bad  news. 

"This  is  nothing :  The  reaction  is  going  to  set  in.  Our 
men  are  withdrawing  in  order  to  be  better  able  to  take 
the  offensive." 

But  when  he  was  alone  his  sense  of  security  collapsed, 
and  he  could  not  hide  from  himself  that  his  faith  was 
shaken  like  that  of  the  rest. 

"They  will  reach  Paris,  if  God  does  not  take  a  hand," 
he  said  to  himself.  "A  miracle  is  necessary,  another  mir- 
acle like  that  of  the  Marne." 

For  the  good  Colonel  still  firmly  believed  that  the  first 
battle  of  the  Marne  had  been  a  miracle  wrought  by  Saint 
Genevieve,  by  Joan  of  Arc,  or  some  other  beatific  person 
able  to  intervene  in  human  combats,  much  as  the  false 
gods  sung  by  Homer  had  intervened.  Did  not  St.  James 
fight  in  the  battles  of  Spain,  whenever  the  Christians 
attacked  the  Moors? 

"And  the  miracle  has  been  rendered  worthless,"  he  said 
bitterly.  "It  will  have  to  be  repeated,  they  will  have  to 
begin  again,  after  four  years  of  war." 

With  the  bombardment  of  Paris  the  population  of  the 
Riviera  had  increased  considerably  in  a  few  weeks. 
The  trains  were  arriving  packed  with  fugitives.  The 
streets  of  Nice  were  filled  with  strangers  just  as  in  peace 
times,  when  the  Carnival  was  celebrated.  Monte  Carlo 
found  its  crowds  largely  increased  and  new  gambling 
rooms  were  opened  in  the  Casino. 


332  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Toledo  spent  the  afternoon  and  the  early  evening 
hours  in  the  anteroom,  always  expecting  good  news,  and 
accepting  the  bad  with  an  easy  optimism  which  found 
excuse  and  justification  for  everything. 

The  circle  of  his  friends  was  gradually  increasing. 
Every  day  he  came  across  well  known  faces  that  he  had 
not  seen  for  a  long  time.  He  shook  hands,  and  returned 
greetings.  "You  here!"  The  cannon  firing  on  Paris 
from  an  extraordinary  distance  filled  the  gambling  rooms 
with  a  well-dressed  crowd,  almost  as  numerous  as  that 
of  peace  times. 

Don  Marcos  continued  to  announce  the  reaction,  the 
counter-offensive  for  the  following  day,  as  though  he 
were  in  touch  in  some  mysterious  way  with  the  General 
StaflF.  And  the  anger  aroused  by  the  daily  failure  of  his 
predictions  was  taken  out  on  the  gamblers.  "What  a  life, 
what  an  indecent  life !  Appetites  that  know  no  morals ! 
The  selfishness  of  brutes !" 

The  people  around  the  Colonel  seemed  to  be  sorry  for 
a  moment  as  they  read  the  bad  news.  Then,  the  ma- 
jority entered  the  Casino.  Perhaps  it  was  a  lack  of 
thoughtfulness  on  their  part,  or  perhaps  it  showed  a 
desire  to  forget,  to  seek  in  gambling  the  illusions  of 
alcohol.  But  the  tiny  ivory  ball  whirled  tirelessly  in  the 
many  roulette  wheels.  The  cards  did  not  cease  to  fall 
in  double  row  on  the  trente  et  quarante  tables,  and  the 
crowds  around  the  green  boards  kept  on  increasing. 

The  people  were  nervous,  argumentative,  and  irritable, 
and  lost  their  manners  over  a  mere  gambling  incident. 
The  activity  on  the  far-off  battle  line  spread  like  a  fierce 
wind,  around  the  tables ;  there  was  an  aggressive  look  in 
the  eyes  of  the  women.  Every  cannon  shot  fired  on  far- 
away Paris  reverberated  like  an  echo  in  the  rain  of 
money  falling  in  Monte  Carlo. 

When  Toledo,  the  strategist,  attempted  to  put  forth  his 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  333 

opinions  and  plans  in  Villa  Sirena,  he  found  a  less  atten- 
tive audience  than  in  the  ante-room  of  the  Casino.  The 
Prince  had  much  more  interesting  things  to  think  of. 
Novoa  displayed  a  certain  selfish  joy,  as  though  consider- 
ing this  period  the  best  in  his  life,  and  the  world's  mis- 
fortunes merely  something  which  gave  a  keener  zest  to 
his  secret  happiness.  Spadoni  listened  to  war  talk  as 
though  people  were  talking  of  some  ancient  fiction. 

As  for  him,  reality  was  what  he  wanted,  and  he  in- 
terrupted the  Colonel  to  tell  him  about  more  interesting 
matters.  At  present  he  scorned  the  Casino,  and  was 
frequenting  the  Sporting-Cluh,  where  there  gathered  the 
boldest  gamblers  who  preferred  to  use  chips  of  five  thou- 
sand francs.  A  Greek,  who  had  been  a  common  sailor 
in  his  youth,  reigned  there  like  a  hero  of  epic  legends, 
admired  by  the  ladies  in  ball-room  dresses  and  the  solemn 
gentlemen  in  evening  clothes  who  gathered  together  in 
that  aristocratic  club.  He  had  learned  to  read  and  write 
after  he  had  grown  up,  but  he  possessed  an  immense  for- 
tune. The  night  before,  after  dealing  for  three  hours, 
he  had  won  a  million  two  hundred  thousand  francs.  Spa- 
doni had  seen  it  with  his  own  eyes,  and  imitated  the 
hero's  gestures  as  he  rose  from  the  table,  with  a  little 
wicker  basket  held  in  both  hands,  a  miserable  little  bas- 
ket containing,  as  so  much  sweepings,  heaps  of  blue  bills, 
and  piles  of  five  thousand  franc  chips.  Why  should  they 
talk  to  him  about  Generals  and  battles?  There  was  a 
man  for  you! 

Castro  had  been  listening  to  the  Colonel  in  a  silence 
that  augured  ill,  and  with  a  coolly  aggressive  look.  Sud- 
denly, he  interrupted  the  plans  of  strategy  of  Don  Mar- 
cos. 

"And  when  are  they  going  to  promote  you  ?" 

Many  of  the  Generals  who  at  present  were  celebrated, 
had  been  mere  Colonels  at  the  beginning  of  the  war. 


334  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

It  was  about  time  that  Toledo  was  shoved  up  a  notch 
on  the  Army  Register. 

And  poor  Don  Marcos,  wounded  by  this  cruel  jest, 
replied  in  a  dignified  manner : 

"I  am  satisfied  with  what  I  am,  senor  de  Castro." 

He  knew  perfectly  well  what  he  was:  a  Colonel,  and 
he  did  not  care  to  be  anything  more.  And  several  times 
he  repeated  to  himself  that  he  did  not  want  to  be  any- 
thing more. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  at  Villa  Sirena  each  one  was 
preoccupied  with  his  own  affairs,  appearing  absent- 
minded  when  the  other  guests  were  talking,  Atilio's  bad 
humor  was  making  their  life  in  common  rather  unpleas- 
ant. 

Toledo  had  a  feeling  that  he  knew  the  reason  for  this 
conduct.  Dona  Clorinda  was  doubtless  treating  him 
badly,  and  he,  in  turn,  was  getting  revenge  for  these 
humiliations  and  vexations  by  showing  himself  harsh  and 
ironical  with  his  friends.  The  Colonel  had  been  obliged 
to  calm  Clorinda  when  he  met  her  (discussing  the  news 
of  the  war)  in  the  Casino.  She  felt  a  strong  antipathy 
to  every  man  who  was  not  in  uniform,  a  little  more  and 
she  would  have  insulted  them. 

"Slackers !    Cowards !    If  I  were  a  man !" 

Although  she  was  not,  she  felt  the  need  of  doing  some- 
thing, and  was  consumed  with  impatience  at  not  being 
able  to  use  her  energies  among  the  whistling  bullets  at 
the  front.    Finally,  she  found  a  means  of  being  useful. 

She  decided  to  leave  for  Paris.  When  every  one  who 
was  able  to  run  away  from  there  was  hastening  to  do  so, 
she  determined  she  would  go  and  take  up  her  residence 
in  her  former  house,  defying  with  her  presence  the  can- 
non and  aeroplanes  of  the  enemy. 

Castro  took  the  liberty  timidly  to  suggest  that  this 
sacrifice  would  have  no  effect.    The  Colonel  added,  with 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  335 

his  professional  judgment,  that  it  seemed  to  him  foolish, 
but  she  was  in  no  way  disposed  to  modify  her  determina- 
tion. 

The  outcome  of  the  war  concerned  her  passionately, 
and  she  entered  into  the  spirit  of  it  with  a  nervous  ve- 
hemence like  that  which  disturbed  her  friendly  relation- 
ships. 

"If  the  Allies  shouldn't  win,  life  for  me  would  be  im- 
possible. How  those  miserable  wretches  would  laugh! 
I  would  rather  die." 

The  miserable  wretches  were  the  friends  she  had  form- 
erly had  before  the  war,  people  of  various  nationalities 
who,  through  pose  or  through  personal  interest,  sym- 
pathized with  the  Germans.  The  "General"  with  a  feel- 
ing of  pride  that  inspired  fear,  really  and  sincerely 
wanted  to  die,  rather  than  see  triumphant  those  whom 
she  had  chosen  as  enemies. 

"If  I  were  a  man !"  And  Atilio,  who  sought  every  oc- 
casion to  be  near  her  in  the  Casino,  or  exaggerated  the 
beauty  of  certain  spots,  in  order  to  induce  her  to  take 
walks  with  him  there  alone,  hastened  to  flee  at  these 
words,  in  which  he  detected  an  insult.  ' 

Later,  on  finding  himself  at  Villa  Sirena,  his  submis- 
sion as  a  lover  changed  to  hostility  for  the  rest. 

He  had  discovered  that  he  hated  Novoa,  or,  rather, 
that  logically  he  ought  to  hate  him.  Dona  Qorinda  was 
quarreling  with  Alicia,  and  the  blue-stocking  for  whom 
the  Professor  felt  such  enthusiasm  was  the  companion 
and  protegee  of  the  Duchess.  For  that  reason  he  ought 
to  be  an  enemy  of  Novoa.  They  were  like  two  men  who 
have  never  done  each  other  any  particular  harm,  but  be- 
long to  two  nations  which  are  at  war. 

Besides — and  he  would  not  have  been  willing  to  con- 
fess it — the  air  of  satisfaction  and  triumph  of  the 
scholar  caused  him  a  certain  envy.     Novoa  was  never 


336    '         THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

squelched  nor  treated  with  indifference,  it  was  the  woman 
who  sought  him,  making  an  effort  to  flatter  his  tastes, 
pretending  scientific  interest  in  things  which  made  no 
difference  to  her  whatsoever:  merely  for  the  sake  of 
keeping  him  under  her  sway.  Happy  man!  And  how 
disagreeable !  As  always  happens  when  one  is  beginning 
to  be  disliked,  Atilio  discovered,  almost  daily,  various 
sources  of  annoyance  of  which  he  told  Toledo. 

His  friend,  the  Professor,  was  trying  to  make  fun  of 
him,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  tolerate  it.  One  day 
Atilio  had  to  wait  half  an  hour  at  the  barber's.  The  Pro- 
fessor was  in  his  chair  and  using  his  manicure.  Such 
nerve!  He  was  doubtless  trying  to  outshine  him,  and 
for  that  reason  he  even  got  his  clothes  from  the  same 
tailor  in  Nice.  Another  piece  of  insolence !  Besides,  he 
didn't  know  how  to  wear  clothes.  And  he  even  sus- 
pected that,  to  please  his  fiancee  and  the  latter's  mis- 
tress, that  book-worm  was  probably  taking  the  liberty  of 
saying  mean  things  about  a  certain  lady,  and  if  he  ever 
found  it  out!  .    .   . 

But  the  Colonel  paid  no  attention  to  such  threats.  The 
sad  news  from  the  war  made  the  matters  of  daily  life 
seem  unimportant. 

The  Germans  were  continuing  to  advance  on  Paris. 
Under  the  repeated  blows  of  the  enemy  the  retreat  of 
the  Allies  seemed  endless,  and  Toledo's  hopes  diminished 
from  moment  to  moment.  By  this  time,  he  was  prepared 
for  anj^hing!  The  invaders  had  an  overwhelming  nu- 
merical superiority! 

He  had  only  one  hope  left.  If  the  aid  promised  by  the 
United  States  were  actually  to  materialize!  Supposing 
it  did  not  turn  out  to  be  a  bluff,  as  many  people  thought ! 
Now  in  his  imagination,  all  he  could  see  was  America,  its 
harbors  filled  with  armed  multitudes,  and  the  blue  surface 
of  the  ocean  plowed  by  thousands  of  boats,  bringing  end- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  337 

less  armies  to  land  on  European  shores.  And  as  weeks 
went  by  without  his  dreams  being  realized,  he  began  to 
give  advice  to  Wilson  from  the  Groves  of  Villa  Sirena, 
or  from  among  the  jasper  columns  of  the  ante-room  of 
the  Casino. 

"What  is  the  man  thinking  of?  Why  don't  they 
come  ?  If  they  don't  hurry,  it  will  all  be  over  before  they 
arrive." 

War  and  discord  made  their  appearance  nearer  at 
hand,  within  his  own  domains,  causing  him  for  a  few 
hours  to  consider  the  general  conflagration  as  a  matter 
of  secondary* interest. 

He  never  knew  for  sure  who  started  the  row,  but  one 
night  during  dinner,  he  noticed  that  Castro  and  Novoa, 
with  studied  coolness,  were  e'xchanging  words  like  sword 
thrusts.  The  Prince  could  not  suspect  any  hostility  be- 
tween his  two  friends,  since  never  in  his  presence  did 
they  depart  from  the  usual  forms  of  courtesy.  Besides, 
occupied  with  his  own  thoughts,  he  did  not  realize  that 
the  Professor,  stirred  up,  doubtless,  by  Atilio's  animosity, 
had  become  somewhat  quarrelsome.  Novoa  made  a 
slight  allusion  to  the  war-like  "General,"  who  was  talk- 
ing about  going  to  Paris,  as  though  her  presence  there 
could  have  any  effect  on  the  war.  Castro  saw  in  this  re- 
mark a  reflection  of  the  enmity  of  the  Duchess.  Doubt- 
less, Valeria  and  Novoa  had  laughed  together  over  Dona 
Clorinda's  enthusiasm.  And  he  turned  against  Alicia's 
protegee,  calling  her  a  penniless  blue-stocking,  who  was 
always  rubbing  elbows  with  great  ladies  though  she  was 
only  a  servant  herself!  He  could  not  understand  senti- 
mental love  affairs  with  women  of  that  class.  He  felt  a 
temptation  to  attack  the  Duchess  de  Delille  also,  but,  re- 
membering that  she  was  a  relative  of  the  Prince,  he  re- 
frained. 


338  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  two  men  sat  there  pale  and  silent,  looking  dag- 
gers at  each  other. 

The  next  day,  Atilio,  before  leaving  for  the  Casino, 
called  Don  Marcos  aside.  Perhaps  he  would  soon  have 
an  affair  of  honor  on  his  hands;  and  could  he  count  on 
the  Colonel  as  second? 

The  Colonel  drew  up  to  his  full  height,  with  a  grave 
frown.  Several  years  had  passed  since  he  had  per- 
formed that  solemn  function,  for  which  he  seemed  to 
have  been  born.  His  last  duel  dated  some  eight  years 
back:  a  meeting  on  the  Italian  frontier  between  two 
gentlemen  who  had  exchanged  blows  over  cheating  at 
cards. 

His  face  became  even  more  gloomy  as  he  bowed  in 
sign  of  consent,  raising  his  hand  to  his  breast.  Since 
with  Don  Marcos  every  action  carried  with  it  proper 
details  in  dress,  he  felt  that  it  was  impossible  to  perform 
a  certain  act  without  the  corresponding  costume,  and  he 
suddenly  remembered  a  certain  frock  coat,  which  had 
long  been  forgotten  in  his  wardrobe,  and  which  he  called 
his  "duelling  uniform,"  a  black  garment,  of  Napoleonic 
cut,  with  long  tails,  which  he  brought  to  light  whenever 
he  was  a  second  and,  owing  to  his  military  name,  was 
called  upon  to  direct  a  combat. 

"I  accept.  One  gentleman  cannot  refuse  another  gen- 
tleman such  a  favor." 

And  he  accepted  with  true  thankfulness,  thinking  how 
proper  it  would  be  to  take  this  suit,  as  solemn  as  death, 
from  its  prison  among  the  moth-balls,  and  give  it  an 
airing. 

But  that  same  afternoon  Novoa  came  to  look  him  up. 
The  Professor  spoke  timidly,  without  the  elegant  indif- 
ference of  Castro,  and  with  a  certain  sense  that  he  might 
be  acting  foolishly.  Perhaps  he  would  soon  have  an  af- 
fair of  honor  on  his  hands. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  339 

"Since  I  don't  understand  such  matters.  Colonel,  you 
will  be  my  second.  I  have  studied  along  other  lines ;  but 
when  a  lady  is  insulted  and  when  I  see  a  young  defense- 
less girl  trampled  upon,  I  consider  myself  as  much  a 
man  as  the  bravest." 

Don  Marcos  started.  No,  indeed!  His  eyes  were 
open  to  the  truth.  He  forgot  about  airing  his  frock 
coat;  it  might  remain  in  its  odorous  tomb.  And  since 
the  Professor  was  less  to  be  feared  than  the  other  man, 
he  let  loose  all  his  wrath  on  Novoa.  Imagine  fighting 
over  mere  nonsense,  when  millions  of  men  were  giving 
their  blood  for  great  ideals !  and  he,  who  had  referred  so 
frequently  to  his  many  experiences  as  a  second  as  heroic 
actions,  made  a  gesture  of  disgust,  as  though  something 
offensive  to  his  honor  were  being  proposed  to  him. 

A  few  days  later,  Novoa  spoke  to  the  Prince,  with  the 
brevity  that  ill  concealed  his  emotions.  He  was  very 
thankful  to  the  owner  of  Villa  Sirena;  he  would  never 
forget  his  pleasant  Hfe  in  that  retreat,  but  it  was  neces- 
sary for  him  to  return  to  his  former  lodgings.  He  had 
important  work  on  hand  which  would  not  allow  him  to 
live  far  from  Monaco;  the  director  of  the  Museum  was 
complaining  of  his  absences. 

And  he  went  away,  to  live  in  a  poor  house  in  the  old 
city,  renouncing  all  the  comforts  and  luxury  of  the  man- 
sion in  charge  of  the  Colonel. 

In  spite  of  such  excuses,  the  Prince  expressed  his 
doubts  to  Toledo.  He  did  not  clearly  understand  this 
flight.  Perhaps  there  were  some  other  reasons  .which  he 
could  not  guess. 

"Yes ;  perhaps  there  are,"  replied  Don  Marcos,  with  a 
knowing  smile.    "It  must  be  a  question  of  women." 

Michael  nodded.  Doubtless,  it  is  on  account  of  Va- 
leria. Living  in  Monaco  he  felt  himself  freer  to  meet  the 
girl. 


340  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"Women!"  the  Prince  exclaimed.  "What  a  power 
they  have  over  us  !" 

"And  what  a  mess  they  make  of  friendships  among 
men !" 

Toledo's  voice  as  he  said  this  was  as  sad  as  the  Prince's 
had  been  on  enumerating  to  his  friends  the  advantages 
of  living  away  from  women.  On  the  other  hand,  Mi- 
chael was  now  himself  submitting  to  a  woman's  domina- 
tion, and  almost  envied  the  scientist  returning  to  his 
former  modest  life  in  order  to  meet  the  woman  he  loved 
more  frequently. 

As  for  himsdlf,  Michael  was  less  happy.  Days  went  by 
without  his  being  able  to  repeat  his  promenade  with 
Alicia  in  the  gardens  of  Monaco. 

"I  love  you!"  she  said.  "You  may  believe  that  I 
haven't  forgotten  that  afternoon.  Later  on  we  will  take 
the  same  trip,  but  not  now,  I  know  how  it  would  end.  It 
is  impossible  for  me.   ...   I  am  thinking  of  my  son." 

Michael  had  no  doubt  that  this  was  true,  but  something 
more  than  worry  over  the  absent  one  was  at  the  time  in 
her  thoughts.  She  had  abandoned  herself  once  more  to 
gambling  with  the  money  she  had  found  in  her  house. 
The  Prince  even  suspected  that  she  had  sold  or  pawned 
the  pin  with  which  he  had  repaired  the  tear  in  her  dress. 
After  giving  her  the  Princess  Lubimoff's  pearl,  he  had 
not  seen  it  again.  Alicia  seemed  unmoved  at  the  first 
splendor  of  Spring. 

"Some  day  we  shall  go  there,"  she  said,  when  he  re- 
called to  her  the  gardens  of  San  Martino,  "I  promise 
you.  But  I  must  be  free  from  worry,  I  must  lose  every- 
thing or  win  everything.  I  must  make  the  most  of  my 
time.  As  you  see,  luck  seems  to  be  remembering  me 
again." 

She  was  winning  little,  but  she  was  winning,  and  this 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  341 

caused  her  to  hope  that  that  sudden  burst  of  good  luck 
which  had  stirred  the  Casino,  would  be  repeated. 

In  the  evening  she  withdrew  contented.  She  had  three 
or  four  thousand  francs  more,  but  what  did  that  amount 
to?  She  lamented  the  smallness  of  her  capital.  She 
wanted  to  play  the  "grand  jeu"  and  win  back  all  that  she 
had  lost.  Winning  thus  little  by  little,  she  would  never 
get  anywhere.  If  she  could  only  get  together  again  the 
thirty  thousand  francs,  which  rose  and  fell,  but  always 
remained  faithful! 

Michael  remained  in  the  Casino  for  hours  at  a  time 
near  her  table,  watching  for  a  propitious  occasion,  with- 
out being  able  to  obtain  more  than  brief  conversation 
when  she  was  resting  from  the  play,  or  taking  tea  in  the 
bar  of  the  private  rooms. 

One  morning  he  went  to  surprise  her  in  her  villa.  It 
was  ten  o'clock.  He  met  Valeria  who  had  just  put  on 
her  hat,  and  seemed  annoyed  at  this  visit.  Perhaps  she 
was  going  to  Monaco,  perhaps  her  man  of  Science  was 
waiting  for  her  in  one  of  the  side  streets  of  Monte  Carlo. 

"The  Duchess  has  gone,"  she  said,  smiling,  "she  must 
be  in  the  midst  of  her  work." 

Among  the  gamblers  the  Casino  was  known  as  the 
"factory,"  and  they  really  meant  it,  when  they  referred 
to  their  worry  and  scheming  around  the  tables  as  their 
"work." 

Doubtless  she  had  spent  a  large  part  of  the  night  figur- 
ing, in  order  to  be  on  hand  at  the  Casino,  at  the  opening 
hour,  her  eyes  still  heavy  with  sleep,  and  without  paying 
any  attention  to  her  personal  adornment,  as  though  there 
were  all  too  little  time  for  carrying  out  some  wonderful 
combination  she  had  just  discovered. 

Whenever  he  met  her,  the  Prince,  with  a  childish 
rather  ill-concealed  motive,  alluded  to  her  son's  fate.    It 


342  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

was  only  thus  that  he  could  rouse  her  from  her  preoccu- 
pations with  gambling,  which  kept  her  constantly  dis- 
tracted, talking  and  smiling  automatically,  like  a  person 
walking  in  her  sleep. 

One  day,  Lubimoff  showed  her  various  telegrams  and 
letters  from  Madrid,  Paris,  and  Berne.  Kings  and  Min- 
isters had  taken  up  the  task  of  finding  out  the  fate  of  the 
aviator  who  had  disappeared.  A  promise  came  over 
from  Berlin,  through  the  medium  of  a  neutral  nation,  to 
look  for  the  young  man  in  every  prison  cantonment. 
They  suspected  that  he  might  be  confined  in  Poland,  in 
a  punishment  camp. 

Alicia  began  at  once  ardently  to  measure  time,  as 
though  the  longed-for  notice  might  arrive  at  any  mo- 
ment. 

"In  Heaven's  name,  please,  Michael !  Write,  telegraph 
this  very  day.  Tell  the  gentlemen  who  have  been  so  kind 
to  send  their  answer  directly  to  me.  The  telegram  or 
letter  might  come  to  your  Villa  while  you  are  away,  and 
I  would  be  hours  and  hours  without  knowing  anything 
about  it !  No,  have  them  write  to  me.  Every  day,  when 
I  go  out,  I  tell  my  gardener  that  if  there  is  a  telegram 
he  should  bring  it  to  me  at  the  Casino.  Imagine  my  im- 
patience !  Tell  me  you'll  do  this.  Promise  me  you  won't 
forget !" 

The  one  thing  that  the  Prince  was  at  all  able  to  forget, 
while  he  was  by  Alicia's  side,  was  his  own  personal  busi- 
ness. His  mind  was  entirely  taken  up  with  discovering 
the  forgotten  captive,  on  whom  his  happiness  depended. 

"The  day  I  learn  for  certain  that  he  is  alive!  .  .  . 
you  will  see  then  how  different  I  am.  I  shan't  bore  you 
with  my  troubles :  you  will  find  a  different  woman." 

And  as  a  matter  of  fact,  her  smile  and  her  glances,  full 
of  promises,  caused  him  to  see  in  her  once  more  the 
Alicia  who  had  walked  beside  him  on  the  path  along  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  343 

seashore,  with  her  lips  pressed  closely  to  his  in  an  endless 
kiss. 

When  he  found  himself  alone,  he  was  assailed  by  his 
own  troubles  and  worries.  He  had  received  news  from 
Russia  through  various  fugitives  who  had  just  been 
freed  from  the  persecution  of  the  Revolution.  The  men 
who  formerly  administered  his  estate  there  had  been 
murdered.  The  Lubimoff  palace  was  being  used  as  the 
headquarters  of  a  Bolshevist  Committee.  His  mines 
were  national  property,  although  no  one  was  working 
them;  his  land  had  been  divided;  various  persons  of  ob- 
scure origin,  former  old  clothes  dealers  and  liquor  mer- 
chants, had  become  the  owners  of  his  houses,  no  one 
knew  how.  And  at  the  same  time  that  he  received  this 
news,  which  made  his  future  so  uncertain,  he  learned 
other  details  which  embittered  his  pleasantest  memories. 
A  great  lady  of  the  Court,  with  whom  he  had  had  a  love 
affair,  the  memory  of  which  he  cherished,  was  now  sell- 
ing newspapers  on  the  sidewalks;  another  very  elegant 
lady,  who  had  set  all  the  fashions  in  Saint  Petersburg, 
was  sweeping  snow  on  the  streets  of  Petrograd,  and  had 
lost  several  fingers  by  freezing.  He  could  count  by  the 
dozen  friends  of  his  who  had  been  killed;  some  of  them 
shot  with  revolvers  like  rats,  in  the  depths  of  some  dun- 
geon, others  executed  by  firing  squads.  Several  had 
perished  of  hunger,  just  as  years  before  those  of  the 
lower  classes,  who  now  were  taking  revenge,  had  died. 

All  these  horrors  aroused  his  selfish  instincts,  causing 
him  to  take  fresh  delight  in  his  own  situation.  The 
world  had  been  plunged  into  a  bloody  madness.  East  and 
west  men  were  rushing  about  like  wild  beasts,  while  he 
remained  quietly  beside  the  most  smiling  of  seas,  with 
love  and  desire  filling  his  life,  which  had  been  so  empty 
before,  and  awakening  anew  the  ardor  and  enthusiasm  of 
youth.     At  the  very  hour  when  thousands  of  human 


344  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

beings  were  dying  in  crowds,  and  the  whole  villages  were 
being  swept  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  he  was  living 
under  the  sway  of  a  woman,  and  finding  his  servitude 
very  sweet. 

One  afternoon,  in  the  bar  of  the  private  room,  Alicia 
spoke  to  him  with  an  air  of  resolution.  She  must  play 
big  stakes.  She  was  tired  of  "working"  on  small  capital, 
and  gaining  small  returns.  Besides,  she  scorned  the  Ca- 
sino with  its  limited  bets,  its  roulette  and  trente  et  quar- 
ante,  almost  mechanical  games  in  which  you  cannot  see 
the  banker  sitting  opposite,  but  instead  mere  employees. 

"All  that  gives  you  the  impression  of  struggling  with  a 
formidable  machine,  that  functions  monotonously,  with 
no  imagination,  no  soul.    I  must  play  baccarat." 

She  had  gotten  her  thirty  thousand  francs  together 
once  more:  either  enormous  winnings  or  nothing!  She 
preferred  to  lose  everything  and  end  it  once  for  all  at  a 
single  stroke. 

"To-night  in  the  Sporting  Club.  Don't  say  no :  I  need 
you.  I  have  a  feeling  that  this  is  going  to  be  the  decisive 
night  for  me — and  perhaps  for  you.  Sit  opposite  me 
so  that  I  can  see  you.  Remember  that  on  the  lucky  after- 
noons you  were  near  me.  You  will  bring  me  luck.  Don't 
shake  your  head ;  you  will  bring  me  luck,  I  tell  you." 

And  she  said  it  with  such  conviction,  that  Michael 
could  no  longer  withhold  his  consent. 

"Come,  you  will  gain  by  it :  I  promise  you.  You  will 
gain  by  it,  no  matter  what  the  result.  If  they  clean  me 
out,  to-morrow  we  will  go  for  a  walk  in  the  Monaco 
Gardens,  as  we  did  before.  And  if  I  win — if  I  win, — 
all  you  want!  ..." 

She  did  not  need  to  say  any  more.  The  look  in  her 
eye  and  her  smile  filled  Michael  with  enthusiasm.  He 
would  see  her  at  the  Club. 

That  night,  Castro  and  Toledo  were  surprised  at  seeing 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  345 

the  Prince  sit  down  at  the  table  dressed,  like  themselves, 
in  a  Tuxedo. 

"The  Boss  isn't  staying  home,"  said  Atilio  to  the  Col- 
onel.    "He  too  is  going  to  the  opera." 

He  went  to  the  Casino  theater,  to  while  away  the  time 
until  midnight.  He  would  not  have  been  able  to  tell 
for  a  certainty  with  whom  he  talked  during  the  intermis- 
sion, nor  with  whom  he  shook  hands.  He  was  obliged 
to  make  an  eflFort  several  times  to  recall  the  name  and 
composer  of  the  opera.  The  music  made  no  difference 
to  him.  It  was  a  lulling  sound  which  rocked  his  thoughts 
to  sleep,  calming  his  emotion — an  emotion  made  up  of 
hope  and  of  fear. 

During  the  first  act,  he  wanted  Alicia  to  lose  every- 
thing, absolutely  everything,  thus  she  would  be  his  more 
completely,  depending  absolutely  on  him,  in  sweet  bond- 
age. Later,  during  the  following  act  he  thought  of  Ali- 
cia's despair  after  such  a  loss.  She  was  full  of  tem- 
perament, and  she  felt  the  pride  of  an  artist  in  her  play. 
Perhaps  more  than  the  lost  money,  she  would  lament 
.  her  personal  defeat.  No,  it  was  better  that  she  should 
win.  But  how  long  the  music  was  lasting !  How  slowly 
his  watch  seemed  to  go!  After  eleven,  when  the  lobby 
was  lighted  and  the  crowd  was  leaving  the  opera,  Mi- 
chael got  into  an  elevator,  which  took  him  down  into  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  and  then  he  followed  a  subterra- 
nean passageway,  the  multi-colored  stucco  walls  of  which 
brilliantly  reflected  the  electric  lights.  He  was  walking 
along  under  the  square  front  of  the  Casino,  where  at 
that  moment  many  carriages  were  passing  back  and 
forth.  Another  elevator  took  him  up  to  a  large  room 
filled  with  columns.  It  was  the  great  hall  of  the  Hotel 
de  Paris.  He  saw  women  in  evening  gowns  and  gentle- 
men dressed  in  Tuxedos,  the  usual  crowd  of  fashionable 
hotel  people  who  put  on  uniforms  for  dinner,  and  then ' 


346  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

sit  around  in  deep  armchairs,  to  digest  what  they  have 
eaten,  looking  at  one  another  without  talking,  or  else 
conversing  in  low  tones,  as  though  they  were  in  church, 
until  they  are  overcome  by  sleep. 

He  bowed  distantly  to  various  friends  who  arose,  on 
seeing  him,  to  begin  a  conversation.  He  pretended  not 
to  see  certain  ladies  who  smiled  at  him,  motioning  with 
their  heads  to  call  him.  He  entered  another  elevator, 
and  descended  once  more  underground.  He  found 
himself  in  a  curving  passageway,  the  walls  of  which 
were  decorated  with  Pompeian  paintings.  It  extended 
under  two  hotels  and  their  gardens.  Once  more  he  en- 
tered an  elevator,  which  brought  him  above  the  surface 
of  the  ground.  He  opened  a  glass  door.  An  old  lackey, 
in  a  blue  livery,  with  knee  breeches  and  white  stockings, 
bowed,  somewhat  surprised  at  recognizing,  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation.  Prince  Lubimoff.  He  was  in  the 
Sporting  Club. 

He  had  not  entered  it  for  years,  since  before  the  war. 
He  was  not  a  gambler,  and  it  was  only  because  he  had 
been  interested  in  certain  women  that  he  had  spent  his 
nights  amid  elegant  society  in  that  place  which,  like 
many  others  of  the  same  class,  was  merely  a  gambling 
den. 

The  drawing  rooms  were  too  small,  after  midnight ;  one 
walked  along  stepping  on  the  trains  of  women's  gowns. 
One  had  to  be  very  dextrous  to  slip  through  between  the 
various  groups.  Every  one  was  smoking,  the  women 
more  than  the  men,  and  the  atmosphere  grew  thicker 
and  thicker  with  tobacco  smoke  and  the  perfumes  of  the 
boudoir.  The  wealthy  people  scorned  the  crowds  at  the 
Casino,  considering  it  a  sign  of  distinction  to  be  packed 
in  together  in  this  club.  They  gambled  with  their  own 
set,  considering  themselves  safe  from  bad  neighbors  at 
the  tables,  and  from  contact  with  suspicious  characters 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  347 

who  were  so  frequent  in  the  public  rooms.  To  get  in 
here,  it  was  necessary  to  give  guarantees ;  some  one  must 
vouch  for  the  honor  of  a  person  before  he  could  be  pre- 
sented. 

The  Prince  was  well  acquainted  with  this  brilliant 
gathering.  Here  one  might  meet  people  of  royal  blood, 
heirs  to  thrones,  who  were  passing  through  the  Riviera, 
famous  bankers,  millionaires  from  all  parts  of  the  world, 
women  celebrated  for  their  nobility,  their  beauty,  or 
their  jewels,  and  many  famous  and  aged  cocottes  and  a 
few,  young  and  fresh  looking,  who  were  anxious  to  grow 
old  as  soon  as  possible,  as  though  that  were  a  means  of 
attaining  celebrity.  They  had  all  appeared  on  the  stage, 
at  one  time  or  another,  in  a  trained-rabbit  act,  perhaps, 
or  in  some  wretched  dance,  or  with  a  song  which  they 
sang  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  had  no  voices.  They 
were  admitted  to  the  Club  under  the  rather  vague  classi- 
fication of  "artists." 

Michael  came  forward  through  the  atmosphere  warm 
from  the  crowds  and  heavy  with  fading  perfumes.  He 
still  had  to  watch  where  he  stepped  this  time  as  he  had 
done  on  his  visit  here  before.  Now,  to  be  sure,  women's 
skirts  were  very  short,  and  their  legs  were  shown  uncov- 
ered, with  a  placid  lack  of  shame.  The  war  was  shorten- 
ing their  skirts,  as  though  the  women,  obliged  to  run  in 
the  open  field,  had  taken  as  a  model  the  ancient  Vivatu- 
dikre.  But  almost  all  of  them,  in  order  not  to  break 
completely  with  a  majestic  tradition,  had  added  to  their 
stylish  overskirts,  a  sharp  and  narrow  tail,  tongue-shaped, 
which  dragged  far  behind  as  they  walked. 

A  lady  came  forward  to  meet  Lubimoff,  and  it  was  a 
moment  before  he  recognized  her.  It  had  been  so  many 
years  since  he  had  seen  Alicia  in  evening  dress!  Her 
gown  dated  back  to  pre-war  times,  but  was  of  rich  mate- 
rial and  the  Duchess  wore  it  with  the  same  smartness  as 


348  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

in  the  days  of  her  wealth.  The  long  pearl  necklace 
gained  an  air  of  genuineness  on  her  person,  as  did  her 
other  ornaments.  It  was  evident  that  she  had  made  ex- 
traordinary eflForts  to  present  a  proper  appearance  on  her 
visit  to  the  Club. 

She  came  here  seldom,  the  crowd  composed  of  former 
friends  talked  too  much,  disturbing  her  in  her  gambling 
calculations.  She  preferred  the  Casino,  with  its  large 
rooms  and  its  motley  crowd,  talking  in  various  languages. 
She  was  a  proletarian  in  the  matter  of  gambling:  she 
had  a  superstition  that  fortune  prefers  to  come  where 
its  devotees  gather  in  large  bands.  Her  intuition  that 
she  would  be  lucky  at  baccarat,  a  game  to  be  found  only 
here,  had  persuaded  her  to  abandon  her  usual  custom  for 
this  one  night. 

The  Prince  complimented  her  on  her  lovely  appear- 
ance, her  dress,  her  pearls.  .    .    . 

"False,  scandalously  false,  my  dear,"  she  said,  laughing 
and  looking  about  her.  "But  you  know  very  well  that 
the  majority  of  those  worn  by  the  other  women  are  no 
better.  Ah,  pearls !  If  all  that  shine  in  the  world  were 
brought  together,  the  sea  would  not  be  large  enough  to 
have  produced  a  tenth  part." 

She  led  the  Prince  toward  the  bar.  She  had  a  favor  to 
ask  of  him.  At  midnight  the  game  of  baccarat  com- 
menced :  she  had  asked  for  "the  bank,"  but  the  rules  of 
the  Club  prevented  her  from  getting  it.  Alas  for  women ! 
Even  in  gambling  they  were  condemned  to  a  position  of 
degrading  inferiority.  Lost  in  the  common  crowd  of 
"ponteurs"  they  might  lose  a  fortune,  but  they  were  for- 
bidden ever  to  hold  the  bank.  The  directors  of  this  Club 
and  other  similar  ones  doubtless  feared  that  women  were 
more  given  to  cheating  than  men.  She,  the  Duchess  de 
Delille,  could  not  be  the  equal  of  a  Greek  sailor,  who 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  349 

dealt  every  evening  with  unheard-of  luck,  causing  the 
crowd  to  feel  suspicious  and  think  evil  thoughts. 

"They  insist  that  I  get  a  man  to  deal  for  me.  He  must 
appear  as  my  banker,  although  every  one  knows  that  the 
capital  is  mine.  I  thought  that  you  might  do  me  this 
favor.  I  like  to  think  of  our  going  together  into  this 
business  which  means  life  or  death  to  me!  Besides,  I  am 
sure  of  success  if  you  deal.  And  what  an  event !  How 
they  would  bet !    Prince  Lubimoff  playing  the  banker  \" 

But  she  did  not  continue.  Michael  interrupted  her 
with  a  decisive  gesture  of  refusal.  It  made  no  difference 
what  she  said.  He  was  indignant  at  the  very  idea  that 
people  should  see  him  seated  at  the  green  table,  playing 
with  money  that  did  not  belong  to  him,  and  having  Alicia 
at  his  back.    Besides,  he  was  sure  of  losing. 

The  Duchess  hastily  left  him.  Time  was  flying,  and 
any  minute  they  might  give  out  the  bank.  She  believed 
once  more  in  her  good  star  as  she  saw  a  young  man 
timidly  slipping  through  the  crowd. 

"Spadoni!  Spadoni!" 

The  pianist  grew  pale  on  hearing  her,  "Oh,  Duchess !" 
He  trembled  and  stammered  with  emotion.  He  dealing 
in  the  Sporting-Club  before  an  elegant  opera  night  crowd, 
handling  thousands  of  francs,  with  all  eyes  fixed  on  him ! 
It  was  the  crowning  moment  of  his  career ;  after  that  he 
could  die  happy. 

Two  players  had  asked  for  the  bank,  the  famous  Greek 
and  a  manufacturer  from  Paris,  who  had  gotten  fabu- 
lously rich  making  munitions.  Spadoni  also  presented 
himself,  carrying  in  a  purse  the  fifteen  thousand  francs 
which  were  necessary  in  order  to  take  charge  of  the 
bank.  Lots  were  to  be  drawn  among  the  three  petition- 
ers. An  employee  of  the  Club  took  a  wicker  basket  that 
held  ten  numbered  balls  and  after  shaking  it,  threw  out 


350  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

three  on  the  table:  one  for  each.  AUcia  mingling  with 
them  with  masculine  familiarity,  almost  clapped  her 
hands  with  joy.  Luck  had  favored  Spadoni,  the  bank 
was  his.  But  the  pianist,  respectful  of  the  privileges  due 
to  genius,  showed  his  sense  of  profound  humility  in 
smiles  and  expressions  of  face  and  eyes  that  seemed  to 
beg  pardon  of  the  Greek,  his  rival. 

The  Greek  was  a  stout  man  with  a  figure  that  almost 
formed  a  square,  with  a  dark  shiny  complexion,  black 
mustache  and  eyes  that  were  somewhat  slanting,  and  had 
a  fixed  aggressive  look,  suggesting  those  of  a  wild  boar. 
His  ancestors  had  been  pirates  in  the  Archipelago,  and 
he,  finding  this  heroic  career  cut  off,  had  become  a  smug- 
gler in  his  youth.  Spadoni,  somewhat  intimidated  by  the 
majesty  of  the  great  man,  stammered  excuses  with  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  Greek's  shining  shirt-bosom,  adorned 
with  pearls,  and  his  gray  silk  vest  that  covered  a  heavy 
paunch.  But  the  Greek  replied,  with  an  ill-humored 
grunt,  walking  away  after  favoring  the  Duchess  with  a 
bow  like  one  of  those  he  had  seen  on  the  stage.  Although 
he  scarcely  knew  how  to  read,  the  Greek  was  posted  on 
the  proper  way  of  treating  a  lady  who  declares  war. 

It  was  twelve  o'clock.  The  gambling  stopped  at  the 
roulette  wheels  and  the  trente  et  quarante  tables.  The 
crowd  was  gathering  in  the  baccarat  room.  The  news 
had  gone  around :  The  pianist  Spadoni,  considered  by 
every  one  as  a  pleasing  parasite,  was  going  to  occupy 
the  place  that  had  been  held  on  former  evenings  by  the 
Greek,  but  in  reality  the  bank  belonged  to  the  Duchess 
de  Delille. 

A  triple  row  of  people  formed  around  the  table,  jam- 
ming together  to  get  a  better  view  over  adjoining 
shoulders. 

Spadoni  smiled,  but  finally  the  ironic  curiosity  fixed 
on  his  person  began  to  make  him  nervous.     Many  of 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  351 

those  who  were  gazing  on  him  were  important  personages 
and  had  always  inspired  him  with  deep  respect.  Fortu- 
nately, he  felt  the  Duchess  at  his  back,  seated  there  with 
an  air  of  ownership,  and  watching  him  with  a  look  of  au- 
thority. If  he  made  any  mistake,  the  great  lady  was 
capable  of  striking  him.  .  .  .  Courage  and  forward 
march !  The  croupier,  sitting  opposite  to  collect  and  pay 
the  bets,  was  shuffling  the  cards,  before  putting  them  in 
a  small  double  box,  from  which  the  banker  was  to  draw 
them.  Poor  banker!  The  crowd,  considering  his  eleva- 
tion something  quite  extraordinary,  was  ready  to  laugh 
no  matter  what  happened.  As  he  sat  down  in  the  presi- 
dential chair,  the  onlookers  considered  the  pianist's  em- 
barrassment very  amusing,  and  an  unrestrained  laughter 
greeted  his  appearance  in  the  seat  of  authority.  He 
asked  the  croupier  a  question  in  a  low  voice,  and  the 
same  explosion  of  merriment  was  repeated.  The  women 
were  the  most  demonstrative  as  they  thought  their  ridi- 
cule might  pass  over  Spadoni's  head,  and  reach  the  wom- 
an who  had  placed  him  there.  The  musician's  look  of 
surprise  at  this  unexplainable  hilarity  only  served  to  pro- 
long it  to  the  point  of  a  general  uproar.  They  all  laughed 
contagiously  on  seeing  his  comical  inability  to  understand 
the  situation.  But  a  rough  voice  put  an  end  to  the  mer- 
riment. 

"Bank!" 

It  was  the  Greek.  He  had  seated  himself  on  Spadoni's 
right,  with  the  angry  look  of  a  person  who  is  conscious 
of  an  enormous  injustice  and  feels  it  is  necessary  to 
remedy  it.  He  could  not  tolerate  the  fact  that  this  gro- 
tesque person  should  occupy  the  same  place  in  which 
he  had  been  admired  every  evening.  Neither  did  he 
consider  it  admissible  that  a  woman  should  mix  in  affairs 
that  belong  entirely  to  men.  He  had  the  same  scandal- 
ized and  astonished  feeling  of  a  person  witnessing  some 


352  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

disarrangement  in  the  rhythmic  order  of  Nature.  The 
world  was  upside  down :  apprentices  were  trying  to  be 
masters ;  class  distinctions  were  not  being  respected,  such 
nonsense  must  be  stopped  once  for  all.    "Cards !" 

The  Prince  trembled.  Alicia's  fifteen  thousand  francs 
were  in  danger.  That  man  was  going  to  prevent  the  bank 
from  continuing.  If  the  Greek  were  to  win,  the  entire 
capital  bet  by  Alicia  would  vanish ;  if  he  lost,  her  money 
would  be  doubled.  But  he  was  sure  to  win.  When  a 
man  as  lucky  as  he  dared  do  that !  .    .    . 

Spadoni  was  overwhelmed  on  hearing  the  great  man's 
voice.  Instinctively  he  turned  his  eyes  in  the  direction 
of  the  Duchess,  but  withdrew  them  at  once,  still  more 
overwhelmed  by  her  motionless  features  and  the  hard 
look  that  seemed  to  strike  his  shoulder,  as  though  he 
were  to  blame. 

The  double  box,  quite  ready,  was  awaiting  his  reach. 
He  dealt  cards  to  the  right  and  left,  and  then  drew  his 
own. 

The  Greek  showed  his  cards,  throwing  them  down  on 
the  board.  "Eight."  A  murmur  of  approval  arose 
around  the  table.  The  admirers  of  his  good  luck  re- 
joiced as  though  it  were  a  triumph  of  their  own.  From 
the  opposite  side  he  took  cards  which  the  croupier  offered 
him,  and  showed  them  after  a  previous  rapid  examina- 
tion of  them.  The  murmur  was  now  one  of  amazement. 
Eight  again !  He  was  going  to  win.  It  was  almost  im- 
possible for  the  banker  to  make  a  higher  point  than  that. 

Spadoni,  pale,  his  brow  glazed  with  sweat,  turned  his 
cards  over.  The  public  greeted  them  with  a  suppressed 
exclamation :    "Nine !" 

The  very  ones  who  had  laughed  at  him,  considered  this 
result  quite  natural.  "Luck  always  protects  the  simple- 
minded." 

And  as  the  Greek  handed  over  the  fifteen  thousand 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  353 

francs  to  the  croupier,  who  acted  as  a  depository  for  the 
bank,  the  pianist  bowed  modestly.  A  few  superstitious 
gamblers  considered  that  the  Duchess  had  showed  excel- 
lent judgment  in  confiding  her  fate  to  this  simple  fellow^ 

Alicia's  eyes  sought  Michael  in  the  triple  oval  of  heads. 
She  smiled  at  him  slightly.  Her  features  had  lost  the 
hard,  fixed  look  with  which  she  had  faced  the  exciting' 
moment.  She  felt  entirely  sure  of  her  triumph.  And 
anxious  to  amaze  the  onlookers  by  her  imperturbable 
calm,  she  took  a  golden  cigarette  case  and  an  ivory  mouth- 
piece from  her  purse  and  began  to  smoke. 

The  pianist,  after  this  first  moment  of  success,  played 
with  a  certain  assurance.  The  Duchess,  sitting  motion- 
less at  his  back,  seemed  to  communicate  her  confidence 
to  him.  He  dealt  several  times  successfully,  and  as  the 
money  in  the  bank  was  considerably  increased,  the  cupid- 
ity of  the  gamblers  was  aroused.  Those  who  laughed 
at  Spadoni's  clumsiness,  now  frowned  with  aggressive 
interest,  taking  part  in  the  playing.  Thus  as  the  capital 
increased,  the  stakes  grew  higher.  Every  one  felt  there 
was  going  to  be  a  great  and  exciting  game.  The  banker 
had  forgotten  the  Duchess  and  his  own  humbleness.  He 
imagined  that  what  he  was  winning  was  his  own ;  he  be- 
lieved he  had  discovered  the  secret  mentioned  by  Novoa, 
which  was  going  to  win  those  fabulous  sums,  on  which 
his  imagination  had  played  so  often  as  he  wrote  dozens 
and  dozens  of  zeros  on  a  piece  of  paper.  What  a  night ! 
And  to  think  that  his  friend,  the  scientist,  was  not  there 
to  witness  his  triumph ! 

Lubimoff  withdrew  from  the  table.  It  hurt  him  to  see 
Alicia's  forced  serenity,  and  her  manner  of  smoking  while 
she  watched  the  progress  of  the  gambling  with  feline 
eyes.  Luck  was  going  to  change  any  moment.  This 
mad  continual  winning  could  not  go  on.  The  Greek  was 
making  an  effort  to  hide  his  anger,  playing  and  losing  like 


354  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

an  ordinary  bettor.  He  could  not  call  "bank"  until  a  sec- 
ond deal  began  after  all  the  cards  in  the  double  box  were 
exhausted.  But  he  stuck  to  his  original  bet  with  the 
tenacity  of  a  bull  dog,  convinced  that  sooner  or  later  he 
would  succeed  in  getting  the  better  of  this  mockery  of 
-chance.  He  had  more  money  than  Alicia  and  her  repre- 
sentative, he  would  be  able  to  hold  out  against  fate,  and 
in  the  end  could  beat  them. 

The  Prince  went  to  the  bar,  passing  the  time  by  sip- 
ping two  American  mixed  drinks,  which  were  sweet  and 
bitter  at  the  same  time,  and  heavy  with  alcohol.  He 
wanted  to  become  slightly  intoxicated,  in  order  to  feel 
himself  on  the  same  level  with  the  woman  who  was  ap- 
pealing so  desperately  to  luck. 

He  found  himself  alone.  The  entire  Club  was  huddled 
together  in  the  baccarat  room.  Michael  lamented  the  fact 
that  Castro  was  not  at  the  Sporting-Club.  They  would 
Tiave  been  able  to  chat  together  as  they  had  the  afternoon 
that  Alicia  succeeded  for  the  first  time  in  clutching  the 
golden  wings  of  the  Chimera.  Perhaps  his  absence  was 
due  to  an  order  from  the  "General".  He  himself  had 
come  there  dragged  by  a  woman! 

A  dull  murmur  came  from  the  gambling  room.  Shortly 
afterwards  he  saw  a  few  of  the  onlookers  entering  the 
cafe,  and  standing  at  the  bar  to  drink.  They  were  talk- 
ing in  tones  of  wonder  and  amazement.  Hearing  the 
name  of  the  Greek  repeated  several  times,  Michael  lis- 
tened. The  former  had  shouted  "bank"  at  the  beginning 
of  a  new  hand,  when  the  bank  contained  a  hundred  and 
forty  thousand  francs.  No  one  but  that  lucky  fellow  was 
capable  of  such  daring.  He  drew  eight,  but  the  pianist 
immediately  showed  his  cards.  Nine  once  more.  And 
the  croupier  had  swept  the  Greek's  one  hundred  and  forty 
thousand  into  the  bank.     What  a  night!     And  to  think 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  355 

that  that  fool  of  a  Spadoni  was  the  man  who  was  doing 
such  wonders ! 

A  few  women  passed  the  door  of  the  bar  with  an  ill- 
humored  air,  gesticulating  among  themselves.  They  ap- 
peared scandalized  and  annoyed  by  the  Duchess  de  De- 
lille's  good  fortune,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  none  of  them 
had  lost  a  cent  in  the  play.  Such  luck  was  unnatural; 
there  must  have  been  some  cheating.  They  could  not  say 
in  what  the  cheating  consisted,  but  it  existed  undoubtedly. 

Later  they  saw  the  Greek,  followed  by  two  admirers. 
His  face  was  sweating,  his  shirt-bosom  wrinkled,  and  his 
vest  had  worked  up,  showing  his  shirt  between  the  gray 
silk  points  and  his  belt.  He  was  shrugging  his  shoulders 
scornfully.  The  world  was  upside  down:  there  was  no 
such  thing  as  logic  any  more.  That  was  why  the  war 
was  going  so  badly! 

And  the  Greek  walked  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
subterranean  passage,  to  return  to  the  Hotel  de  Paris. 
He  did  not  care  to  see  any  more  of  it :  it  was  a  night  for 
lunatics ! 

Neither  did  the  Prince  care  to  be  a  witness,  and  he 
remained  in  his  armchair,  asking  for  another  cocktail. 
In  front  of  the  door  he  could  see  passing  those  whom 
another's  good  luck  had  embittered,  and  were  fleeing,  and 
those  who  were  arriving,  attracted  by  the  news  of  the 
event. 

He  remained  alone,  like  a  spectator  who  stays  in  the 
lobby  of  a  theater  and  listens  to  the  far-off  pulsing  thrills 
of  the  audience.  Long  intervals  of  silence  passed. 
Later,  there  was  a  murmur,  a  sigh  from  the  crowd,  a 
buzz  of  exclamations  circulating  in  low  tones.  Was 
Alicia  still  winning?  Or  was  he  going  to  see  her  appear 
like  the  Greek,  shrugging  her  shoulders  at  the  absurdity 
of  fate? 


356  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

He  asked  for  still  another  glass;  and  gazing  at  the 
spirals  of  smoke  from  his  cigar,  he  was  falling  asleep. 
Suddenly  he  sat  up,  imagining  he  had  received  a  sharp 
blow  on  his  shoulders.  It  was  a  mere  illusion !  He  was 
alone.  Gazing  about  him,  he  noticed  the  clock.  It  was 
two.  He  stood  up  and  slowly  walked  toward  the  baccarat 
room. 

The  crowd  had  thinned  out,  but  all  those  who  had  re- 
mained were  taking  a  hand  in  the  play.  The  enormous 
sum  amassed  by  the  Bank  was  a  temptation.  No  need  to 
fear  that  the  winners  would  not  be  paid !  Even  the  mere 
spectators  who  spend  the  night  on  their  feet^  sharing 
other  people's  emotion,  were  risking  their  money  louis  by 
louis,  hoping  that  this  burst  of  luck  which  wholly  favored 
the  bank,  would  change  in  favor  of  the  crowd. 

The  first  thing  that  Michael  saw  was  an  enormous  heap 
of  thousand  franc  notes,  five  thousand  franc  chips,  and 
chips  and  bills  of  various  amounts.  It  was  a  fortune. 
Then  he  noticed  Alicia,  sitting  motionless  in  her  seat, 
just  as  he  had  left  her,  with  the  expressionless  face  of  a 
caryatid.  Her  eyes  merely  looked  mechanically  back  and 
forth  from  that  heap  of  wealth  to  the  hands  of  the 
banker.  She  was  smoking,  smoking.  On  a  tray  which 
a  lackey  had  placed  reverently  beside  the  victorious 
woman  there  was  a  pile  of  gold-tipped  cigarette  butts. 

She  seemed  stupefied  by  her  success,  by  the  monotony 
of  her  constant  luck. 

The  pianist  was  beginning  to  display  a  certain  somno- 
lence in  his  looks  and  in  his  voice.  Mere  winning  seemed 
something  insipid  to  him,  after  the  flight  of  that  admir- 
able Greek,  Similarly  other  famous  gamblers  had  dis- 
appeared, as  though  not  caring  to  authenticate  by  their 
presence  such  an  absurd  run  of  luck.  The  only  real 
competitors  were  some  English  people  from  Beaulieu, 
whose  automobiles  were  waiting  below.     This  extraor- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  357 

dinary  game  interested  them,  as  though  it  were  some  un- 
usual sport ;  they  were  anxious  to  fight  against  the  Bank's 
good  luck,  with  British  tenacity,  merely  for  the  pleasure 
of  overcoming  it.  The  women,  bony  and  distinguished 
looking,  with  very  low  necks  and  long  trails  to  their 
gowns,  ejaculated  "oh!"  in  amazement,  each  time  the 
croupier  with  his  rake  carried  off  their  heavy  bets,  while 
the  men  drew  from  inner  pockets  of  their  Tuxedos,  new 
handfuls  of  bills,  greeting  their  defeat  with  metallic 
laughter. 

In  one  blow  Spadoni  lost  twenty  thousand  francs.  Lu- 
bimoff  had  the  fatal  presentiment  of  a  sailor  who  feels 
beneath  his  feet  the  shudder  of  the  ship  about  to  be  torn 
open,  of  the  soldier  who  feels  instinctively  the  beginning 
of  his  rout. 

Another  blow ;  and  the  bank  lost  again. 

Michael  cautiously  drew  near  the  chair  occupied  by 
Alicia. 

"It  is  two  o'clock.  It  is  time  to  go  home,"  he  mur- 
mured, whispering  his  words  into  her  hair  as  he  bent  over 
her.  "You  are  going  to  have  a  run  of  bad  luck:  I  can 
feel  it  coming.    Tell  Spadoni  to  get  up." 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 
She  seemed  intoxicated,  unable  to  make  out  what  he  was 
saying,  and  showed  her  refusal  by  a  slight  shake  of 
her  head.     She  had  faith  in  her  own  luck. 

Fortune  saw  to  it  that  her  confidence  was  justified. 
The  banker  was  winning  again,  carrying  off  all  the  sums 
placed  on  both  sides  of  the  table.  But  this  did  not  con- 
vince the  Prince.  He  continued  to  feel  afraid,  and  his 
worry  made  him  brutal. 

He  went  over  and  stood  at  Spadoni's  back,  in  order  to 
drop  a  word  to  him  discreetly,  while  looking  in  another 
direction.  "You  ought  to  stop  at  once.  Call  the  game 
off.    It's  long  after  closing  time  anyhow.'* 


358  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  banker  turned  his  face  and  looked  up  at  him  in 
order  to  see  what  sage  was  dropping  these  words  of  wis- 
dom from  on  high.  "Oh,  your  Highness !"  This  discov- 
ery was  accompanied  by  a  proud  smile,  evincing  satisfac- 
tion that  Prince  Lubimoff  should  have  witnessed  the 
greatest  deed  of  his  life. 

And  he  went  on  dealing. 

Michael  grew  angry.  This  idiot,  overwhelmed  by  his 
triumph,  did  not  understand  him,  and  if  he  did  under- 
stand him,  he  was  refusing  to  obey.  The  voice  of  the 
Prince,  falling  with  a  slow  tremor,  reached  the  ears 
of  the  man  below.  "Spadoni,  you  incredible  fool  of  a 
pianist" — here  two  or  three  oaths  in  various  languages. 
— If  Spadoni  did  not  obey  him  at  once  he  would  jerk  him 
out  of  the  chair  with  a  thud,  and  give  him  a  kick  that 
would  send  him  flying  through  the  windows ! 

"The  last  deal !"  said  the  banker. 

And  when  he  stopped  dealing,  many  of  the  specta- 
tors breathed  freely,  satisfied  and  relieved  by  the  end  of 
a  game  that  seemed  to  have  been  under  an  evil  spell. 
Others  gazed  with  astonishment  and  envy  at  the  enor- 
mous heap  of  money  in  the  bank,  as  the  croupier  put  it 
in  order,  forming  bundles  of  bills,  and  straightening  the 
various  colored  chips  in  columns. 

The  sum  ran  from  mouth  to  mouth :  four  hundred  and 
ninety-four  thousand  francs !  A  little  more  and  it  would 
have  been  half  a  million.  Rarely  had  such  a  rapid  win- 
ning been  seen. 

Spadoni,  as  though  he  were  the  master  of  these  riches, 
was  putting  them  into  a  little  wicker  basket.  He  was 
trembling  with  emotion.  He  was  going  to  walk  through 
the  crowd  of  onlookers  carrying  this  treasure,  just  as  on 
former  nights  he  had  seen  his  hero  pass,  with  the  air  of 
a  conqueror.  In  comparison  with  this  what  did  he  care 
for  the  applause  he  had  received  as  a  pianist ! 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  359 

But    eager    hands    snatched    the    basket    from    him. 

"No !  let  me !  let  me !"  It  was  the  Duchess ;  it  was  no 
longer  necessary  any  more  for  her  to  claim  indifference. 
That  money  was  hers.  She  had  become  transfigured 
by  coming  out  of  her  eager  trance-like  silence.  Her  eyes 
were  shining  with  a  triumphant  gleam,  her  brow  was 
pearled  with  sweat,  her  cheeks,  which  were  intensely  pale, 
quivered.  Carrying  the  basket,  with  her  arms  held  out 
before  her,  she  slowly  passed  among  the  groups,  with 
priestly  majesty,  walking  in  the  direction  of  the  cashier's 
cage. 

Spadoni  remained  beside  the  Prince.  He,  too,  was  per- 
spiring, and  his  features  were  pale  with  emotion. 

"What  a  night.  Your  Highness !    What  a  night !" 

He  looked  proudly  at  every  one,  but  smiled  humbly 
at  the  owner  of  Villa  Sirena.  He  must  make  the  Prince 
forget  his  refusal  of  moments  before,  and  the  terrible 
threats  which  had  been  visited  upon  it. 

A  moment  later  Alicia  returned  to  them,  carrying  a 
paper  in  her  hand-bag. 

The  pianist's  enthusiasm  overflowed. 

"Oh,  Duchess!     Divine  Duchess!" 

He  kissed  one  of  her  bare  arms,  then  a  shoulder. 
Alicia  smiled  at  this  public  homage.  The  poor  pianist, 
no  matter  what  he  might  do,  could  not  compromise  her. 

"Thanks,  Spadoni,  you  may  count  on  my  gratitude. 
Go  ahead  and  decide  what  you  want,  a  house,  a  yacht, 
or  perhaps  a  piano  with  golden  keys." 

Michael  listened  in  amazement.  She  was  speaking 
in  all  sincerity:  as  though  her  fortune  had  turned  her 
mind. 

But  the  pianist  left  them.  He  felt  he  must  be  alone. 
By  the  Duchess'  side  he  was  obliged  to  share  his  glory, 
contenting  himself  with  but  a  fragment  of  it.  And  he 
went  off  to  join  the  English  people  from  Beaulieu,  who. 


36o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

proclaiming  him  the  most  interesting  phenomenon  they 
had  met  in  all  their  travels,  were  anxious  to  meet  and 
share  a  bottle  of  champagne  with  him. 

Alicia  and  the  Prince  walked  toward  the  cloak  room. 

"I  have  deposited  my  winnings  with  the  cashier  of  the 
Club,"  she  said,  showing  him  the  receipt.  "I  am  not 
going  to  carry  so  much  money  home  at  night.  To-mor- 
row I  shall  come  to  take  it  to  the  bank.  I  need  some 
one  to  accompany  me.  Send  me  the  Colonel:  he  is  a 
fighter  and  must  have  a  revolver." 

Then,  remembering  something  important,  her  features 
took  on  a  grave  look. 

"I  need  not  say  that  to-morrow  we  will  straighten  our 
account.  Don't  think  I  have  forgotten  what  I  owe  you : 
the  twenty  thousand  francs  from  the  other  day,  and  your 
mother's  three  hundred  thousand.     It  will  all  be  paid." 

Michael  showed  the  astonishment  which  this  promise 
caused  him  by  a  prolonged  laugh.  Really,  her  winning 
had  affected  her  brain.  A  piano  with  golden  keys  for  the 
other  man,  and  now  hundreds  of  thousands  of  francs  for 
him.  The  fortune  recently  acquired  in  two  hours  seemed 
to  her  as  extraordinary  and  limitless  as  her  good  luck 
itself  had  been. 

"What  I  want,"  he  added,  in  a  low  tone,  ceasing  to 
laugh,  "what  I  want  from  you,  you  know  very  well." 

She  stopped  him  with  a  caressing  look  and  a  discreet 
whisper  which  was  equivalent  to  a  promise. 

They  descended  the  large  stairway  in  the  Club,  and 
were  standing  in  the  vestibule,  she  wrapped  in  a  silk 
cape  embroidered  with  gold  and  adorned  with  rich 
furs,  which  recalled  her  evenings  after  the  opera  in 
Paris;  he,  with  his  overcoat  open  and  a  soft  silk-lined 
hat  on  his  head. 

The  employees  in  the  vestibule,  informed  of  what  had 
happened  in  the  gambling  rooms,  hurried  to  the  glass 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  361 

door  in  a  hope  of  a  handsome  tip.  "A  carriage  for  the 
Duchess !" 

But  she  wanted  to  walk  in  the  silence  of  the  night 
She  was  numbed  from  remaining  motionless  so  long,  and 
felt  the  need,  like  every  one  who  feels  happy,  of  pro- 
longing the  joy  of  her  triumph  by  a  long  walk. 

She  descended  the  outer  stairway  leaning  on  Michael's 
arm.  They  passed  between  the  drivers  and  the  few 
chauffeurs  who  were  standing  about  in  groups,  waiting 
for  the  owners  of  their  machines,  or  for  possible  patrons 

They  went  down  into  the  cool  night  air,  with  their 
eyes  still  tired,  from  the  splendor  of  the  illumination, 
their  skins  hot  from  the  heavy  atmosphere  of  the  gaming 
rooms.  They  both  noticed  that  it  was  a  moonlight  night, 
with  a  sad,  waning  moon  that  was  beginning  to  drop 
behind  the  dark  barrier  of  the  Alps.  The  submarine 
menace  kept  the  city  in  darkness.  At  long  intervals, 
pale  lamps,  the  glass  of  which  was  painted  blue,  cast 
above  themselves  a  narrow  circle  of  funereal  light. 

After  a  few  steps,  they  grew  accustomed  to  the  dark- 
ness. In  the  street  the  ground  was  divided  into  two 
bands,  one  a  pale,  dim  white  reflected  from  the  dying 
moon,  the  other  dark,  with  the  heavy  black  shade  of 
ebony.  Instinctively,  they  walked  along  the  dark  side- 
walk, as  though  afraid  of  being  seen.  They  wound  along 
through  a  curving,  sloping  street,  the  same  that  made 
its  way  underground  by  the  Pompeian  corridor  and 
which  the  Prince  had  taken  a  few  hours  before. 

At  their  backs  they  could  still  hear  the  conversations 
of  the  drivers  hidden  by  a  turn  in  the  street,  the  voices 
of  the  Club  servants  calling  by  the  owners'  names  for 
the  carriages;  the  stamping  of  the  horses,  shaking  off 
sleep  as  they  waited,  and  the  first  humming  of  the 
motors  that  began  once  more  to  function.  Michael,  who 
was  walking  along  in  silence,  with  a  desire  to  get  away 


3G2  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

trom  there  as  soon  as  possible  and  seek  absolute  solitude, 
on  seeing  her  pause,  was  obliged  to  stop.  She  had  antici- 
pated his  thoughts :  she  did  not  care  to  go  any  farther. 

"I  must  reward  you !"  she  murmured.  "I  told  you  that 
at  any  event  you  would  gain  by  coming,  even  though  I 
should  lose.    There  .  .  .  there." 

Her  bare  arms,  freeing  themselves  from  the  silken 
cape,  closed  about  his  shoulders,  forming  a  tight  ring; 
submissively  her  mouth  sought  his,  humbly  abandoning 
itself,  with  a  desire  of  giving  happiness. 

At  the  end  of  the  street  a  sudden  illumination  flared 
up,  making  the  scene  stand  out  against  the  shadows,  like 
a  flash  of  lightning.  It  was  the  searchlight  of  an  auto- 
mobile. She  did  not  move,  she  was  not  afraid  of  being 
surprised :  people  were  mere  phantoms,  without  any 
reality  whatsoever.  Nothing  existed  in  the  world  at 
that  moment  save  themselves  and  the  heap  of  paper  bills, 
and  pieces  of  ivory  guarded  in  the  steel  vault. 

All  his  life  Michael  remembered  that  night.  The  clocks 
were  doubtless  mad,  turning  like  his  head,  which  seemed 
in  a  whirl,  following  the  rhythm  of  sweet  music.  He 
had  a  feeling  that  they  passed  the  same  place  several 
times,  going  back  and  forth  as  they  walked,  without 
knowing  what  they  were  doing.  What  difference  did  it 
make  ?  The  important  thing  was  that  they  were  together. 
There  was  a  moment  in  which  they  both  seemed  to 
awaken,  finding  themselves  seated  on  a  bench,  in  the 
Casino  Square.  The  Prince  was  sure  of  it.  He  had 
looked  at  the  clock  on  the  f  agade.  It  was  three  o'clock ! 
it  seemed  impossible,  he  firmly  believed  that  only  a  few 
minutes  had  passed  since  they  left  the  Club.  And  they 
were  obliged  to  walk  away,  annoyed  by  the  curiosity  of 
a  civilian  who  was  doing  police  duty  in  war  time,  a 
member  of  the  Prince's  militia  in  citizen's  clothes,  with  a 
.colored  band  on  his  arm  and  a  revolver  at  his  belt. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  363 

Once  more  they  walked  through  the  deserted  streets  or 
along  the  public  gardens,  closed  at  that  hour.  Her  body 
was  thrown  back,  with  her  cape  open,  she  was  hanging 
limp  upon  his  arm  which  was  thrown  about  her  waist, 
and  she  offered  a  tensely  drawn  throat  and  an  upturned 
face  to  a  rain  of  kisses.  She  looked  up  at  her  com- 
panion, with  eyes  dreamy  with  love.  Her  caresses  rose 
slowly  and  voluptuously  in  a  crescendo,  as  sea  flowers 
and  stars  arise  from  the  blue  depths  in  search  of  light. 

Replying  to  the  mute  appeal  of  the  eyes  that  were  im- 
ploring from  above,  she  murmured  several  times,  in  a 
faraway  voice,  as  though  talking  in  a  dream: 

"Yes,  all  you  wish  ...  all  you  wish !" 

More  aggressive  in  his  passion,  he  buried  his  free  arm 
in  the  warm  circle  of  her  cape,  drawing  her  closer  to 
him. 

They  walked  along  in  a  wavering  course,  imagining 
they  were  going  in  a  straight  line;  in  certain  spots  they 
both  stopped  at  the  same  time,  without  knowing  why. 
Their  loitering  caused  a  commotion  in  the  villas.  The 
gardeners'  dogs  howled  furiously  at  these  intruders, 
thrusting  their  noses  against  the  iron  gates.  This  howling 
sounded  to  the  lovers  like  barbaric  but  agreeable  music, 
feeling  benevolently  toward  everything  that  surrounded 
them,  they  imagined  themselves  the  lords  of  creation, 
just  as  at  that  moment  they  were  masters  of  the  night. 
Nothing  save  themselves  existed  in  the  world. 

Michael,  obeying  an  obscure  impulse  he  did  not  un- 
derstand, spoke  to  her  of  her  son.  She  would  recover 
him  at  any  moment  now,  and  her  happiness  would  be 
complete.  .  .  .  Immediately  he  repented  having  awakened 
this  memory,  which  might  break  the  enchantment  in 
which  they  were  living.    But  she  showed  no  emotion. 

"Yes,  I  will  recover  him,"  she  murmured.    "I  am  sure 


364  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  it.    My  good  luck  will  not  forsake  me.    It  was  time, 
after  suffering  so  long." 

And  once  more  she  abandoned  herself  to  the  present 
moment.    They  were  both  surprised  to  find  themselves  in ' 
the  street  where  Villa  Rosa  was  located.    After  wander- 
ing about  at  random,  instinctively  they  had  finally  come 
there. 

The  Prince,  emboldened  by  the  long  walk  filled  with 
kisses  and  abandonment,  became  urgent. 

"Let  me  come  in,"  he  murmured.  "No  one  will  see 
me.  ...  I  will  go  away  before  the  break  of  dawn." 

Alicia  stopped  short  as  though  suddenly  awakening. 
It  was  her  first  gesture  of  refusal  during  the  entire  night. 
The  gardener  was  surely  waiting,  perhaps  Valeria  had 
not  yet  gone  to  sleep.     "Oh,  no!" 

Lubimoff,  in  desperation,  spoke  of  their  walking  to- 
gether to  Villa  Sirena. 

"So  far!"  continued  Alicia,  growing  calmer  at  every 
moment,  as  though  she  were  entirely  awakened.  "Be- 
sides, that  place  is  a  barracks ;  a  house  full  of  men.  And 
that  Castro  who  tells  everything  to  the  'General' !  No, 
no,  I  shall  never  go  there.    What  madness !" 

Michael's  look  of  sadness,  his  gesture  of  dismay, 
touched  her.  She  passed  her  hand  over  his  features 
with  a  motherly  caress. 

"My  poor  boy :  Don't  look  like  that,  be  patient  awhile. 
To-morrow;  I  promise  you  that  it  will  be  to-morrow." 

She,  who  in  former  times  had  dared  the  most  atrocious 
scandal  with  tranquil  lack  of  shame,  hesitated  and  stam- 
mered as  she  spoke  of  the  next  day.  She  seemed  like  a 
young  girl  struggling  between  love  and  a  fear  of  com- 
promising her  future  in  society. 

To-morrow!  To-morrow  he  might  come  at  three  in 
the  afternoon.  .  .  No,  not  at  three;  four  o'clock  was 
better.    Valeria  surely  would  have  gone  out  by  that  time. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  365 

She  would  send  her  maid  to  Nice  to  do  some  shopping; 
the  gardener  and  his  wife  would  be  busy  outside  the 
house. 

"But  in  Heaven's  name,  be  careful !  If  you  can  man- 
age so  that  the  neighbors  don't  see  you,  it  will  be  much 
better." 

And  the  famous  Prince  Lubimoff  visibly  moved,  like 
a  boy  planning  his  initiation  into  love,  and  prematurely 
stirred  by  its  mysteries,  assented  to  this  counsel. 

He  insisted,  in  spite  of  her  protests,  on  going  with  her 
to  the  gate  of  the  Villa. 

"If  you  were  any  one  else,  all  right !  It  is  quite  natural 
that  a  friend  should  accompany  me  at  such  an  hour; 
but  you!  ...  I  am  afraid  that  every  one  will  guess 
our  secret." 

It  was  not  until  the  gate  was  closed  and  Alicia's  ador- 
able figure  was  lost  in  the  darkness,  that  the  Prince  could 
decide  to  go  away. 

He  was  obliged  to  walk  the  long  distance  to  Villa 
Sirena,  and  nevertheless  the  road  seemed  short  to  him. 
Memories  and  promises  accompanied  him.  His  step  had 
never  been  lighter,  he  seemed  to  be  advancing  through 
air  in  which  the  laws  of  gravitation  had  been  lessened, 
on  a  planet  wrapped  in  a  perpetual  night  of  springtime, 
in  which  the  air,  the  dim  trees  and  the  objects  lost  in  the 
darkness  about  him,  vibrated  with  a  poetic  rhythm. 

His  sleep  was  restless,  but  he  arose  serene  and  in 
high  spirits.  He  remembered  the  errand  Alicia  had 
asked  him  to  do.  She  needed  a  warrior,  with  a  revolver 
if  possible,  to  escort  her  in  transferring  her  fortune  from 
the  Club  vaults  to  the  bank.  The  Colonel,  deeply  im- 
pressed at  her  stroke  of  luck,  went  out  to  perform  this 
task.  "Poor  Duchess !  In  the  end  'God  always  protects 
the  good." 

Michael   spent  the  entire  morning  attending  to  his 


366  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

personal  adornment.  His  attempts  at  leading  a  simple, 
country  life  in  retirement  at  Villa  Sirena  had  not  made 
him  forget  the  hygienic  care  to  which  he  was  accus- 
tomed since  his  childhood.  But  now  it  was  a  question  of 
something  more;  he  wanted  to  make  himself  look  well, 
and  heighten  with  exquisite  and  intimate  attentions  the 
individuality  of  his  physique,  which  he  suddenly  felt  had 
been  rather  roughly  treated  by  time. 

He  had  his  old  valet  go  over  the  wardrobe  he  had 
acquired  in  former  days.  He  remembered  certain  under- 
garments that  had  merited  women's  praise.  He  was  as 
desirous  for  novelty  and  seductiveness  as  a  woman  dress- 
ing for  a  long-awaited  rendezvous.  Besides,  he  chose 
a  suit  that  he  had  never  worn  before  in  Monte  Carlo,  a 
new  hat,  and  a  modest  tie.  He  recalled  her  apprehension, 
and  her  request  that  he  should  enter  unseen. 

As  he  was  doing  all  this,  a  sinking  feeling,  of  lack  of 
confidence  in  himself,  began  to  assail  him.  It  was  the 
feeling  of  uneasiness  like  that  of  a  student  before  ex- 
amination, like  that  of  a  dramatist  watching  from  the 
wings  for  the  fate  of  his  play,  like  that  of  a  man  about 
to  fight  a  duel.  He  had  spent  so  many  weeks  desiring 
without  avail!  He  had  renounced  love  so  long  ago! 
And  the  thought  of  Alicia  aroused  in  him  both  eagerness 
and  terror. 

The  Colonel  returned  about  noon.  He  had  performed 
his  duties.  He  told  the  news  with  modest  brevity,  as 
though  he  had  just  accomplished  something  very  im- 
portant. Michael  amost  envied  him,  because  he  had  seen 
Alicia.     "How  is  she?" 

"Beautiful,  as  beautiful  as  ever.  Somewhat  pale,  as 
was  natural  after  such  an  excitement  as  that  of  last 
night!  But  gay,  very  happy,  talking  constantly  about 
the  Marquis.  It  is  easy  to  guess  that  she  feels  a  strong 
affection  for  him." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  367 

They  had  lunch  alone.  Spadoni  was  going  out  in  so- 
ciety, after  his  triumph.  Perhaps  he  was  in  Beaulieu 
with  his  new  friends,  the  Englishmen.  Toledo  had  met 
Castro  going  into  the  Hotel  de  Paris,  where  Dona  Qo- 
rinda  lived.  Doubtless  they  were  having  lunch  together 
to  talk  over  the  winnings  of  the  Duchess.  Atilio  had 
even  pretended  he  did  not  understand  when  the  Colonel 
talked  to  him  about  the  event.  Envy,  of  course!  The 
Prince  shrugged  his  shoulders.  People  were  mere  phan- 
toms as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  and  evil  passions  were 
illusions.  There  were  only  two  realities:  he  and  what 
was  awaiting  him. 

After  lunch  he  dressed  with  such  attention  to  the 
minutest  details  that  the  absurdity  of  it  made  him  smile. 
He  even  changed  his  tie,  after  he  was  dressed,  looking 
for  another  of  a  quieter  color.  "Half-past  two."  He 
looked  at  himself  from  head  to  foot  in  the  mirror:  a 
dark  gray  suit,  tan  shoes,  and  a  light  felt  hat  with  broad 
brim  turned  down  to  protect  his  eyes  from  the  sun.  No 
one  had  ever  seen  Prince  Lubimoflf  dressed  in  such  a 
manner.  From  a  distance  one  might  have  taken  him  for 
one  of  the  travelers  who  visit  the  Riviera  in  passing,  and 
come  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  roulette  at  Monte 
Carlo  in  an  afternoon,  and  go  away  again  immediately. 

Three  o'clock!  He  left  Villa  Sirena.  It  was  a  long 
way  and  he  wanted  to  walk  it.  The  exercise  would  forti- 
fy his  will  and  dispel  the  doubt  which  was  assailing  him 
anew.  He  thought  of  how  he  had  performed  the  same 
supreme  intimate  act  so  many  times  in  former  years, 
as  something  ordinary  and  almost  mechanical.  His  sus- 
picious isolation  during  the  last  few  months  seemed  to 
have  numbed  him.  He  felt  the  lack  of  confidence  of  an 
athlete  who  has  left  off  exercising  and  doubts  whether 
he  can  summon  all  his  former  strength  again.    Fear  at 


368  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  mere  idea  of  a  failure  restored  his  confidence.  Such 
a  thing  was  impossible !    Forward  march ! 

On  reaching  Monte  Carlo,  he  climbed  the  long  stone 
steps  as  far  as  the  streets  of  Beausoleil.  He  considered  it 
advisable  to  go  out  of  his  way  thus  to  carry  out  in  the 
fullest  detail  the  counsels  of  prudence  that  Alicia  had 
given  him. 

He  planned  to  enter  her  street  from  above,  where  there 
were  no  houses.  In  this  way  he  would  avoid  any  of  her 
neighbors  who  at  that  hour  might  be  going  down  town. 

Above  the  building  plots  where  houses  were  going  up 
and  the  stairways  which  were  winding  down  the  slope, 
he  could  overlook  a  large  expanse  of  sea,  and  on  the 
shore  the  groves  of  the  gardens,  with  a  bird's-eye  view  of 
the  huge  mass  of  the  Casino,  with  its  green  tiles  and  the 
yellow  cupolas  of  its  halls,  the  wide  square,  the  little 
circular  garden  of  the  "Camembert,"  and  around  it  nu- 
merous people  the  size  of  ants. 

The  Prince  had  a  feeling  of  pity  for  those  pigmies. 
Unhappy  men!  They  were  going  to  gamble,  to  shut 
themselves  up  between  four  walls,  under  artificial  light, 
with  no  other  dreams  than  those  of  money.  For  him 
something  better  was  awaiting;  for  a  few  hours  he  was 
going  to  experience  the  one  interesting  intoxication  of 
life.  Then  he  laughed  with  pity  at  a  certain  lunatic, 
his  double,  who  had  tried  to  found  a  club  group  of 
"women's  enemies."  Imagine  hating  love,  and  trying  to 
live  without  women ;  poor  Prince  Lubimoff ! 

It  was  now  four  o'clock.  Passing  among  tiny  gardens 
which  seemed  miles  away  from  a  crowded  city,  he  en- 
tered Alicia's  street.  The  red  roof  of  Villa  Rosa  was 
peeping  out  from  among  the  trees,  almost  at  his  feet.  He 
kept  on  descending.  His  legs  trembled  slightly,  and  he 
stopped  for  a  moment  to  regain  his  poise,  raising  his 
hand  to  his  breast    Rounding  a  bend,  all  of  the  street 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  369 

that  was  built  up  appeared,  straight  and  gently  sloping 
down  to  where  it  joined  one  of  the  avenues  of  Monte 
Carlo. 

No  one  was  in  sight,  and  he  hastened  to  slip  into  Villa 
Rosa  before  any  neighbors  appeared.  He  passed  the 
gardens  rapidly,  with  the  air  of  a  man  afraid  of  being 
late  at  a  game  of  cards.  He  found  the  gate  half  open. 
It  was  a  good  sign :  Alicia  had  thought  of  facilitating  his 
entry. 

He  crossed  the  little  garden,  and  thought  he  saw  the 
frightened  face  of  the  gardener,  peeping  over  some 
shrubbery  for  a  moment,  then  hiding  again  precipitous- 
ly. There  was  something  strange  about  that  man's  curi- 
osity and  his  look  of  fear.  But  he  was  hurrying  away, 
and  the  Prince  was  pleased  at  his  discretion. 

With  a  flutter  of  emotion,  he  climbed  the  four  steps 
of  the  door.  With  each  one  there  awoke  in  his  imagina- 
tion a  fresh  dream  picture,  softly  rose-colored  like  wo- 
men's flesh,  a  sweet  unconfessable  vision  which  suddenly 
brought  back  his  past.  More  with  his  memory  than  with 
his  sense  of  smell,  he  perceived  m  the  atmosphere  a  well- 
known  perfume,  her  perfume.  Everything  seemed  to  be 
whirling  about  him  with  hazy  contours.  There  was  a 
buzzing  in  his  ears ;  desire  electrified  him  drawing  his 
muscles  taut,  just  as  in  his  happiest  days.  And  with  the 
bearing  of  a  conqueror,  he  pushed  open  the  door,  which 
was  unlocked. 

A  woman  came  forward  to  meet  him  in  the  vestibule,  a 
woman  whose  presence  caused  him  to  draw  back. 

Valeria !  What  was  she  doing  there  ?  What  sort  of  a 
farce  was  this? 

The  young  woman  tried  to  speak,  and  he,  too,  wished 
to  speak  at  the  same  time.    But  neither  was  able. 

Another  woman  appeared,  opening  the  door  abruptly. 
It  was  Alicia,  with  her  clothes  in  disorder  and  her  hair 


370  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

wildly  streaming.  On  seeing  the  Prince,  she  raised  her 
arms  and  came  forward,  impetuous  and  silent,  as  though 
to  embrace  him.  At  last!  .  .  .  What  did  he  care  if 
Valeria  were  present:  he  did  not  see  her.  On  the  other 
hand,  Alicia  seemed  different  to  him;  taller  than  ever, 
and  paler,  with  eyes  that  suddenly  inspired  fear. 

Her  arms  fell  about  him,  and  immediately  her  whole 
body  seemed  to  totter,  bereft  of  strength.  He  felt  a 
panting  breast  against  his  own;  her  arms  were  as  cold 
as  those  of  a  corpse ;  a  rain  of  hot  tears  began  to  bathe 
his  neck. 

"Michael!    Michael!"  Alicia  groaned. 

It  was  all  she  could  say.  She  was  choking,  the  sobs 
catching  in  her  throat  as  though  a  strangling  lump  were 
fixed  within  it. 

The  Prince  was  obliged  to  summon  all  his  strength  to 
sustain  the  inert  body.  A  voice  sounded  in  his  ear,  with 
the  same  low  monotonous  tone  that  is  heard  in  a  chamber 
of  death. 

It  was  that  of  Valeria,  who  was  also  weeping,  feeling 
afresh  the  contagion  of  tears. 

"He  is  dead!    He  died  a  month  ago!" 

And  she  showed  him  a  little  yellow  paper  that  had 
arrived  half  an  hour  before :  a  telegram  from  Madrid. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Spadoni,  after  greeting  Novoa  in  the  Casino  square, 
told  him  about  the  dreams  which  were  troubling  his 
sleep,  and  about  his  disillusionment  on  awakening, 

"It  is  your  fault,  professor.  When  we  were  living 
together  at  Villa  Sirena,  I  used  to  listen  to  the  interesting 
things  you  knew  and  talked  about  and  then  I  would  go 
peacefully  to  sleep.  Now  I  am  practically  alone.  The 
Prince  and  Castro  are  unbearably  ill-humored ;  they  talk 
scarcely  at  all  and  pay  no  attention  whatever  to  me.  As 
you  yourself  would  say,  I  lead  an  'inner  life,'  always 
alone  with  my  thoughts;  and  when  I  spend  the  night 
there,  I  sleep  badly,  and  suffer  from  dreams,  which  are 
very  wonderful  in  the  beginning,  but  turn  out  very  sad 
in  the  end.  Oh,  what  wonderful  evenings  we  used  to 
spend,  talking  about  scientific  things!" 

Novoa  smiled.  In  the  eyes  of  the  musician,  gambling 
and  its  mysteries  were  scientific  matters.  All  the  para- 
doxes that  he  had  taken  delight  in  uttering  had  been 
stored  up  in  the  mind  of  the  pianist  as  irrefutable  truths. 
Novoa  tried  to  head  him  off  by  asking  for  news  of  the 
Prince.    But  Spadoni,  absorbed  in  his  mania,  continued: 

"Last  night's  dream  was  terrible,  and  nevertheless  it 
could  not  have  begun  better,  I  had  the  secret  of  your 
infinitesimal  errors;  I  had  mastered  the  hidden  laws  of 
chance  and  was  King  of  the  world.  I  had  a  special 
train,  composed  of  a  sleeping  car,  a  drawing-room  car,  a 
dining  car,  a  swimming-pool  car,  and  goodness  knows 
how  many  special  kinds  of  cars !  It  was  a  regular  palace 
on  wheels  that  was  always  awaiting  me  at  the  railway 

371 


372  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

station,  with  the  engine  constantly  keeping  up  steam, 
ready  to  start  at  any  moment.  I  got  out  of  the  train  in 
all  the  cities  famous  for  gambling,  just  as  a  person  gets 
out  of  an  automobile.  And  seeing  me  coming,  the  own- 
ers of  the  Casinos,  the  employees,  and  even  the  green 
tables  fairly  trembled.  'Hurrah  for  the  Avenger!'  all 
those  who  had  lost  their  money  shouted  in  the  anteroom. 
But  I  passed  on,  serene  as  a  god,  without  paying  any 
attention  to  these  ovations  from  the  common  herd.  Im- 
agine what  it  would  cost  the  possessor  of  the  secret  of 
the  infinitesimal  errors  to  win!  My  twelve  secretaries 
placed  on  the  various  tables  a  million  or  two,  following 
my  instructions.  'Ready,  play!'  I  walked  about  like 
Napoleon,  giving  orders  to  my  marshals.  In  half  an 
hour,  they  declared  the  bank  was  broken  and  the  Casino 
bankrupt.  'The  house  is  closing  its  doors !'  shouted  the 
employees,  just  as  in  a  church  when  the  services  are  over. 
And  on  coming  out,  the  same  starving  wretches  who  had 
greeted  me  with  acclamations  rushed  on  the  guards 
escorting  me,  with  sudden  hate,  trying  to  kill  me.  The 
place  where  their  fortunes  were  buried  was  closed  to 
them  forever.  Now  they  could  not  return  the  next  day 
and  lose  more  money  with  the  vague  hope  of  squaring 
accounts.    I  had  taken  away  all  their  hopes." 

"Exactly,"  said  Novoa. 

"^Also  I  had  a  yacht,  which  was  larger  than  Prince 
Lubimoff's;  something  in  the  nature  of  a  first-class 
cruiser.  And  I  needed  one  that  size,  for  a  band  of  fol- 
lowers as  large  as  mine.  I  had  with  me  hordes  of  secre- 
taries, a  crowd  of  strong-arm  men  whose  duty  it  was 
to  defend  me  and  my  treasure,  and  a  great  number  of 
blase  people,  who  considered  me  a  very  interesting  per- 
son, and  followed  me  all  over  the  globe,  like  that  mis- 
anthropic fellow  who  followed  a  lion  tamer  from  city 
to  city,  hoping  that  the  wild  beasts  might  some  day  de- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  373 

vour  him.  There  was  no  longer  a  single  Casino  func- 
tioning in  Europe:  the  one  at  San  Sebastian  had  been 
turned  into  a  convent ;  the  one  at  Ostend  was  being  used 
as  a  laboratory  for  experiments  on  oyster  culture.  In 
all  the  bathing  resorts  and  all  medicinal  springs,  people 
became  interested  exclusively  in  taking  care  of  their 
health;  and  when  they  wanted  distraction,  they  went  to 
the  promenades  and  played  marbles  and  other  children's 
games.  In  the  meantime  I  went  traveling  through  the 
Americas  and  the  South  Seas,  breaking  one  bank  after 
another,  in  all  the  big  gambling  houses.  I  was  followed 
by  journalists  who  made  up  another  army  larger  than 
my  own.  The  newspapers  and  the  cable  and  telegraph 
agencies  announced  my  arrival  in  advance,  making  a 
great  stir.  'The  invincible  Spadoni  is  coming!'  And 
the  gaming  establishments,  feeling  their  end  was  near, 
tried  to  exploit  their  death  agony  by  selling  seats  at 
fabulous  prices  to*every  one  who  wanted  to  witness  my 
triumph.  In  the  United  States  a  steel  king,  or  a  king 
of  something  or  other,  gave  a  hundred  thousand  dollars 
for  a  seat,  in  order  to  follow  my  irresistible  playing  close 
at  hand.  Never  before  had  such  a  sum  been  paid  to  see 
the  long  hair  of  a  concert  singer  or  the  diamonds  of  a 
soprano." 

"And  how  about  Monte  Carlo?"  asked  Novoa,  inter- 
ested by  the  gambler's  wild  dreams. 

"We  are  coming  to  that.  I  kept  Monte  Carlo  to  the 
end  of  my  trip,  thinking  of  the  money  that  I  had  lost 
here.  The  fatter  I  let  the  victim  grow,  the  greater  would 
be  my  vengeance.  And  such  business  as  Monte  Carlo 
was  doing!  Since  there  was  no  gambling  left  anywhere 
else  in  the  world,  all  the  gamblers  gathered  here  from 
every  part  of  the  globe.  The  city  had  grown,  until  it 
reached  the  summits  of  the  Alps ;  the  forty  millions  that 
the  Casino  used  to  win  in  favorable  years,  had  now  be- 


374  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

come  four  thousand  million.  The  stockholders  were 
marrying  persons  of  royal  blood :  two  Balkan  kings  were 
declaring  war,  quarreling  over  the  hand  of  the  daughter 
of  a  fourth  Vice-President  of  the  company  that  was 
managing  the  Casino.  The  equilibrium  of  Europe  was 
imperiled:  the  great  powers  were  dreaming  of  annexing 
Monaco  in  the  name  of  ancient  historical  and  ethnolog- 
ical rights,  since  they  had  all  had  and  still  had  many 
people  of  their  race  living  on  that  tiny  piece  of  land.  But 
suddenly  the  Invincible  appeared." 

Spadoni,  as  though  still  dreaming,  looked  at  the  Casino, 
the  Square,  the  entrance  to  the  terrace,  and  the  curving 
slope  of  the  avenue  which  descended  to  the  harbor.  He 
could  see  it  all,  perhaps  no  differently  than  he  had  seen 
it  in  his  imagination. 

"What  a  crowd  there  was !  For  six  months  previously 
the  whole  world  had  talked  of  nothing  else.  'Are  you 
going  to  see  the  fun?'  'Aren't  you  going?'  Cook's 
Agency  had  announced  in  every  country  of  the  globe  an 
inexpensive  trip  'personally  conducted'  to  witness  this 
world  event.  The  Paris-Lyon-Mediterranean  was  giving 
round  trip  tickets  at  reduced  prices,  and  all  Paris  was 
on  hand.  The  owners  of  hotels  and  restaurants,  out  of 
gratitude,  were  placing  my  portrait  in  the  most  conspicu- 
ous part  of  the  dining  rooms,  which  were  always  filled. 
The  newspapers  published  my  biography,  and  in  men- 
tioning my  wealth  were  obliged  to  break  their  columns, 
placing  a  line  of  zeros  clear  across  the  page,  and  even 
then  there  was  not  sufficient  space.  I  forgot  to  tell  you 
that  I  found  myself  obliged  to  establish  a  bank,  just  to 
take  care  of  my  treasures.  And  whenever  the  Bank  of 
London  or  the  Bank  of  France  were  pressed  for  money, 
they  sent  me  a  polite  note,  asking  me  to  get  them  out  of 
their  difficulty." 

Novoa  laughed  at  the  naive  way  in  which  the  pianist 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  375 

related  his  greatness.  He  still  seemed  obsessed  by  his 
dream. 

"My  yacht  was  obliged  to  anchor  outside  the  harbor 
among  other  ships.  There  were  many  trans-Atlantic 
liners  there:  four  from  the  United  States,  one  from 
Japan,  another  from  South  America,  and  a  few  from 
Australia  and  New  Zealand,  all  filled  with  travelers  who 
had  come  from  the  other  hemisphere  to  see  Spadoni. 
After  greeting  Monaco  with  a  twenty-one-gun  salute,  I 
sprang  ashore  amid  the  hurrahs  of  the  foreign  sailors. 
You  easily  understand  that  a  man  like  myself  could  not 
arrive  at  the  Casino  seated  in  a  mere  automobile.  Who 
hasn't  an  automobile  now-a-days!  On  the  dock  there 
was  waiting  for  me  a  single  seated  carriage  which  I  was 
to  drive  myself,  but  a  carriage  with  gilded  wheels,  drawn 
by  six  women,  six  beautiful  women,  all  of  them  cele- 
brated, whose  pictures  figured  not  only  in  the  principal 
illustrated  papers,  but  also  on  perfumery  bottles  and  cigar 
boxes." 

The  Professor  was  extremely  amused.  He  noticed  the 
satisfaction  with  which  the  pianist  dwelt  on  this  detail 
of  his  triumphal  entry.  The  degradation  of  these  six 
elegant  and  famous  women  seemed  to  flatter  his  woman- 
hating  propensities.  He  spoke  with  a  coolly  revengeful 
look,  as  though  witnessing  the  abject  humiliation  of  his 
greatest  and  deadliest  enemy. 

"It  was  merely  a  matter  of  paying  the  price:  and  I 
was  not  going  to  bargain  over  a  million  more  or  less.  The 
one  thing  that  annoyed  me  was  having  to  choose  among 
several  thousand  beauties  who  were  clamoring  to  be 
selected.  I  was  obliged  to  risk  offending  many  big  the- 
ater managers,  business  men,  and  statesmen,  by  rejecting 
the  many  ladies  whom  they  recommended  to  me.  A 
monarch  even  withdrew  the  title  of  Duke  which  he  had 
just   given   me,    because    I    had    refused    his    favorite 


376  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

'friend.'  All  six  wore  the  latest  frocks  designed  in  the 
Rue  de  la  Paix.  The  reporters,  cameras  in  hand,  were 
taking  snap  shots  of  the  gowns  which  were  to  set  the 
latest  style.  Besides,  their  harness  was  covered  with 
pearls,  diamonds,  and  every  sort  of  precious  stone,  and 
they  were  careful  not  to  injure  them,  knowing  that  at 
the  end  of  their  trot  they  would  be  able  to  keep  the  gems 
as  souvenirs.  I  had  a  large  whip  to  use  on  occasion:  a 
whip  of  flowers,  to  be  sure.  One  must  always  be  chival- 
rous with  ladies." 

He  smiled  ironically.  Once  more  Novoa  noted  his  look 
of  rancorous  misogyny. 

"But  inside,  the  whip  was  made  of  sharp  steel;  and 
lashing  my  six  handsome  steeds,  we  started  out.  What 
a  long  time  it  took  to  climb  the  slope  making  our  way 
through  the  crowd !  The  foreigners  greeted  me  with 
acclamations.  The  sounds  of  the  clicking  cameras  blended 
into  an  endless  buzzing.  Every  one  wanted  to  carry 
away  the  image  of  the  king  of  the  world.  I  could  pick 
out  the  natives  of  the  city  by  their  sad  faces.  The  men 
were  imploring  me  with  their  glances,  like  miserable 
captives ;  the  women  held  up  their  children ;  the  old  men 
fell  on  their  knees.  I  was  the  conqueror  who,  in  ruining 
the  Casino,  was  utterly  destroying  their  home  land,  con- 
demning them  to  poverty  and  hardship.  The  square  was 
black  with  people.  On  getting  out  of  my  vehicle,  I  saw 
that  the  steps  of  the  Casino  were  filled  with  a  great 
delegation.  First  of  all,  was  Monsieur  Blanc ;  next,  his 
general  staff  of  advisors,  the  principal  stockholders,  the 
inspectors,  and  the  entire  body  of  croupiers,  all  dressed 
in  black,  with  long  alpaca  coats  of  a  funereal  cut.  In 
the  background  were  well  known  people,  whose  presence 
there  might  move  me.  In  order  to  recall  to  my  mind 
the  fact  that  I  had  been  a  mere  pianist,  they  had  waiting 
for  me  there,  baton  in  hand,  directors  of  concerts  and 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  377 

operas,  orchestra  soloists  with  their  instruments;  singers 
— the  men  with  swords  at  their  belts,  the  women  with  long 
trains,  and  all  of  them  painted  and  bewigged ;  girls  from 
the  ballet,  with  pale  pink  legs  and  masses  of  tulle  stand- 
ing out  horizontally  from  their  waists.  Instructed  in  ad- 
vance, they  were  all  ready  to  groan. 

"  'One  word  with  you,  Signor  Spadoni,' 

"It  was  Monsieur  Blanc  who  took  me  aside,  and  handed 
me  a  small  paper, 

"  'Take  this  and  don't  go  in.' 

"I  looked  at  the  paper :  a  check  for  a  million.  Humph  I 
What  can  a  man  do  with  a  million?  And  on  noticing 
that  I  was  crumpling  it,  and  throwing  it  on  the  ground^ 
the  master  of  the  Casino  gave  me  another  paper. 

"  'Make  it  five  then,  and  go  away.' 

"Since  this  did  not  move  me  either,  he  kept  on  takings 
checks  from  all  his  pockets:  ten  million,  fifteen,  forty  .  .  . 

"My  twelve  counselors  came  forward  with  huge 
purses  filled  with  bank  notes ;  my  escort  cleared  the  way 
among  the  imploring  crowd  on  the  stairway;  my  horses 
were  getting  impatient,  because  certain  connoisseurs  had 
availed  themselves  of  the  crowding  to  take  liberties  with 
them. 

"  'One  more  word,  Signor  Spadoni :  the  last.  We 
will  cause  a  revolution,  we  will  dethrone  Albert,  and  give 
the  crown  of  Monaco  to  you.  If  you  like,  you  might 
marry  the  daughter  of  an  Emperor :  with  money  you  can 
do  anything.    We  have  it  and  so  have  you.  .  .  .' 

"  'I  have  told  you  no !  What  I  want  is  to  get  into  that 
Casino,  bust  the  whole  business,  and  take  away  the  keys.* 

"This  threat  tore  from  him  the  supreme  concession. 

"'You  shall  be  my  partner;  I  will  give  you  fifty  per 
cent  of  the  winnings.  Don't  you  want  to?  Well  then^ 
seventy-five.* 

"On  seeing  that  I  continued  to  advance  up  the  stair- 


378  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

way  without  listening  to  him,  he  raised  a  whistle  to  his 
lips.  On  his  face  was  a  look  of  a  Samson,  clutching  the 
columns  of  the  Temple.  He  would  rather  die  than  see 
his  house  bankrupt!  A  terrible  explosion  resounded,  as 
though  the  world  were  being  rent  apart.  They  had 
mined  with  all  the  high-power  explosives  of  the  war, 
the  Casino,  the  square,  and  the  whole  city.  I  was  blown 
off  my  feet  and  driven,  dazed,  up  into  the  clouds,  but  I 
was  still  able  to  see  how  Monte  Carlo  was  disappearing, 
and  even  the  dock  of  Monaco,  as  the  sea  in  one  enormous 
wave,  was  sweeping  over  the  site  of  the  vanished  land. 
And  when  I  came  down  to  earth  again  .  .  ." 

"You  woke  up,"  said  Novoa. 

"Yes,  I  woke  up,  and  on  the  floor  beside  my  bed ;  and 
I  could  hear  Castro's  voice  in  the  corridor  calling  me 
names  for  having  spoiled  his  sleep  by  my  cries.  Don't 
laugh.  Professor.  It  is  very  sad  to  dream  of  such  gran- 
deur, as  though  you  had  had  it  in  hand,  and  then  to  find 
yourself  as  poor  as  yesterday,  as  poor  as  ever,  and  be- 
sides with  bad  luck  still  clinging  to  you." 

This  mention  of  poverty  and  bad  luck  by  Spadoni 
caused  Novoa  to  protest.  People  still  recalled  his  amaz- 
ing fortune  as  the  banker  in  the  Sporting  Club.  That  had 
been  an  epoch-making  night.  Besides,  he  knew  through 
Valeria  that  the  Duchess  had  made  him  a  handsome 
present. 

"Wonderful  Duchess!"  the  pianist  said  enthusiastical- 
ly, "Always  a  great  lady.  Poor  woman,  in  the  midst  of 
her  despair  she  remembered  me.  'Take  this,  Spadoni, 
and  I  hope  you  have  lots  of  luck.'  She  gave  me  twenty 
thousand  francs.  If  I  were  to  ask  her  for  a  hundred 
thousand  she  would  give  them  to  me  just  the  same.  And 
to  think  she  is  so  unfortunate!" 

As  the  Professor  still  looked  at  him  questioningly, 
he  continued : 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  379 

"Well,  then;  of  the  twenty  thousand  francs  I  haven't 
even  a  hundred  left." 

The  same  evening  he  had  hurried  to  the  Sporting  Club 
to  repeat  his  great  deeds.  He  had  never  happened  to 
have  so  much  capital  before,  not  even  when  he  returned 
from  his  concert  tour  in  South  America.  The  terrible 
Greek  was  there,  and  in  spite  of  the  admiration  Spadoni 
paid  His  Eminence,  the  Helene  treated  the  musician 
with  implacable  hostility.  "Bank!"  said  the  Greek  on 
seeing  the  pianist  in  the  banker's  chair,  with  fifteen 
thousand !  With  what  remained  the  musician  had  strug- 
gled along  for  a  few  days  as  a  mere  bettor,  and  now  the 
Duchess'  generous  gift  was  merely  a  memory. 

"li  she  would  only  return  to  work!  I  am  sure  that 
I  would  be  once  more  the  man  I  was  that  night,  with  her 
behind  me.  But  who  would  dare  talk  to  her  about  gam- 
bling." 

They  both  lamented  Alicia's  misfortune.  Since  the  day 
the  telegram  arrived  telling  of  the  death  of  her  protege, 
she  had  been  a  different  woman.  Spadoni  attributed  her 
overwhelming  grief  over  a  young  soldier  who  did  not 
belong  to  her  family  to  her  excessively  kind  heart.  The 
Professor  assented,  with  an  enigmatic  air.  In  her  sud- 
den burst  of  grief,  Alicia  had  doubtless  let  a  portion  of 
her  secret  escape  in  the  presence  of  Valeria,  and  the  lat- 
ter probably  had  told  Novoa  about  it. 

Then  they  talked  about  the  isolation  in  which  the 
Duchess  was  living. 

"It  has  been  a  month  since  any  one  has  seen  her,"  said 
Spadoni.  "People  are  beginning  to  forget  about  her;  a 
good  many  people  think  she  has  gone  away.  That's  the 
way  Monte  Carlo  is :  quite  tiny  for  those  who  go  to  the 
Casino,  and  rub  elbows  all  day  long;  enormous,  like  a 
great  metropolis,  for  those  who  do  not  come  near  the 
gambling  rooms.    The  Prince  frequently  asks  me  about 


38o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

her  with  a  great  deal  of  interest.  It  seems  he  has  not 
been  able  to  see  her  since  the  afternoon  of  the  telegram." 

Novoa  repeated  his  enigmatic  look  on  hearing  Lubim- 
off's  name.  He  knew  through  Valeria  that  Michael  had 
gone  repeatedly  to  Villa  Rosa,  without  being  admitted. 
And  more  than  that ;  the  Duchess  had  shuddered  in  ter- 
ror at  the  thought  of  his  visit.  "I  don't  want  to  see  him, 
Valeria;  tell  him  I  am  not  in."  Colonel  Toledo  had 
suffered  the  same  fate;  obliged  to  hand  his  card,  some- 
times to  the  Duchess'  friend  and  at  other  times  to  the 
gardener.  Several  letters  from  the  Prince  had  remained 
unanswered.  Alicia  showed  a  firm  determination  not  to 
see  her  relative,  as  though  his  presence  might  quicken 
the  grief  that  was  keeping  her  away  from  society. 

Spadoni,  unaware  of  all  this,  continued  to  praise  the 
Duchess. 

"A  noble  heart !  She  always  has  to  have  some  un- 
fortunate person  around  to  look  after.  Since  the  death 
of  her  aviator,  she  seems  to  be  feeling  a  deep  affection 
for  that  Lieutenant  of  the  Foreign  Legion,  the  Spaniard 
who  is  so  ill,  and  who  may  die  almost  any  moment,  like, 
the  other  man.  He  spends  whole  days  at  Villa  Rosa ;  he 
lunches  and  dines  there ;  and  if  the  Duchess  takes  a  walk 
in  the  mountains,  it  is  always  with  him.  He  does  every- 
thing but  sleep  at  the  Villa !  When  he  doesn't  show  up 
for  some  time,  she  immediately  sends  a  messenger  to 
the  Officers'  Hotel." 

The  Professor  remained  silent,  but  knew  that  Spadoni 
was  telling  the  truth.  It  agreed  with  what  Valeria  had 
been  telling.  Martinez  was  constantly  at  Villa  Rosa, 
often  against  his  will.  The  Duchess  needed  his  presence, 
but  nevertheless  on  seeing  him,  she  would  burst  into 
sobs  and  tears.  But  the  poor  boy,  with  a  submission 
bom  of  awe,  accompanied  her  in  her  voluntary  seclusion, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  381 

deeply  thank fuJ  that  such  a  great  lady  should  take  an 
interest  in  him. 

"Dona  Clorinda  must  be  furious,"  continued  the  pianist^ 
with  malignant  joy  such  as  rivalry  among  women  always 
aroused  in  him.  "She  no  longer  has  any  influence  over 
Martinez,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  was  the  one  who 
discovered  him.  The  other  woman  has  cut  her  out. 
Weeks  go  by  and  the  'General'  doesn't  get  a  chance  to 
see  her  Lieutenant ;  I  believe  she  has  given  him  up,  as  a 
matter  of  fact.  She  criticizes  her  former  friend  for  this 
monopolizing,  which  she  considers  'dangerous.'  They 
even  tell  me  that  she  accuses  the  Duchess  of  flirting  with 
the  poor  boy,  of  arousing  false  hopes  in  him,  and  of  still 
worse  things.  Quite  absurd !  Women  are  terrible  when 
they  hate.  Imagine!  A  poor  officer — ^practically  a  dead 
man.  ..." 

Novoa  said  nothing,  so  that  the  pianist  would  stop 
talking.  He  was  afraid  Spadoni  might  say  some  awful 
thing,  repeating  Doria  Clorinda's  gossip,  with  the  ran- 
corous joy  of  a  woman-hater.  Novoa,  through  his  rela- 
tions with  Valeria,  considered  himself  a  partisan  of  the 
Duchess,  and  could  not  tolerate  anything  being  said 
against  her. 

They  separated  after  a  few  minutes  more  of  incon- 
sequential talk. 

That  evening  Spadoni  spoke  to  the  Prince  about  his 
conversation  with  the  Professor,  and  it  gave  him  a 
pretext  for  repeating  what  Dona  Clorinda  thought  of  her 
former  friend.  But  immediately  the  pianist  repented  of 
having  done  this,  seeing  the  look  of  wrath  which  Lubim- 
off  gave  him. 

"What  a  cad,"  thought  Michael,  "peddling  around  a 
lot  of  female  gossip,  just  because  he  has  a  grouch  against 
women  in  general." 


382  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

He  understood  how  Alicia  might  feel  interested  in  the 
soldier.  His  youth  and  his  uniform  reminded  her  of 
her  son.  Besides,  Martinez  was  alone  in  the  world,  a 
foreigner,  a  piece  of  wreckage  from  the  war,  a  man 
whom  every  one  considered  irrevocably  condemned  to 
death. 

Yet  Michael  could  not  avoid  an  immediate  feeling  of 
jealousy  toward  the  poor  young  fellow  who  was  friend- 
less and  ill.  Martinez  was  living  constantly  by  Alicia's 
side,  while  he  himself  was  unable  to  gain  admittance  to 
the  Villa,  even  as  a  mere  visitor.     Why? 

He  had  spent  several  weeks  making  conjectures,  and 
watching  for  a  chance  to  meet  Alicia.  Since  the  after- 
noon when  he  had  held  her  in  his  arms,  drying  her  tears 
and  restraining  her  from  hurting  herself,  as  she  writhed 
in  grief,  and  kissing  her  on  the  brow,  with  brotherly 
compassion,  the  gate  of  Villa  Rosa  had  closed  behind  him 
forever.  "Come  to-morrow,"  groaned  Alicia  on  saying 
good-by  to  him.  And  the  following  day  Valeria  had 
halted  him  with  the  embarrassed  look  of  a  person  telling 
a  lie.  "The  Duchess  cannot  receive  you.  The  Duchess 
wants  to  be  alone."  And  this  inexplicable  refusal  had 
been  repeated  each  successive  day,  with  increasing  sharp- 
ness. At  present  the  gardener,  who  was  the  only  one 
who  came  to  answer  the  bell,  talked  with  him  through 
the  gate. 

This  rejection  caused  him  to  commit  a  great  number 
of  childish  and  humiliating  actions.  He  circled  about  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Villa  like  a  jealous  husband,  facing 
the  curiosity  of  the  passersby,  and  taking  advantage  of 
the  most  absurd  pretexts  to  disguise  the  real  object  of 
his  vigil,  hurriedly  concealing  himself  whenever  the  gate 
opened,  and  any  one  left  the  house.  This  vigilance  had 
only  served  to  arouse  his  anger.  Twice  Michael  had  been 
obliged  to  hide  himself  while  Lieutenant  Martinez,  erect 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  383 

in  the  old  uniform  which  the  Prince  had  given  him  and 
which  was  rather  a  bad  fit,  steadied  his  weak  sick  body 
in  a  desire  to  appear  proud  and  healthy,  and  entered 
Villa  Rosa  through  the  wide-open  gate,  as  though  he 
were  the  owner. 

One  afternoon  he  had  seen  them  from  a  distance,  the 
Lieutenant  and  Alicia,  in  a  hired  carriage,  which  was 
going  in  the  other  direction,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street,  toward  the  Heights  of  La  Turbie.  She  was  look- 
ing after  the  wounded  man,  taking  him,  in  maternal 
solicitude,  to  a  spot  where  he  could  breathe  the  upland 
air.    And  the  Prince  might  just  as  well  have  not  existed ! 

In  vain  he  wrote  her  letters,  and  his  torment  was 
even  greater  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  could  not  talk 
openly  with  his  friends.  The  Colonel,  obedient  to  his 
veiled  suggestions,  had  unavailingly  paid  several  calls 
on  the  Duchess. 

"What  unexplainable  grief !"  said  Don  Marcos.  "It  is 
impossible  to  understand  such  despair  over  a  young  avia- 
tor who  was  merely  a  protege  of  hers.  Unless,  perhaps, 
he  were  her  .  .  ."  But  his  sense  of  delicacy  would  not 
allow  him  to  insist  on  such  an  ignoble  suspicion. 

Nor  could  the  Prince  talk  with  Atilio.  In  the  latter's 
eyes,  the  prisoner  who  had  died  in  Germany  was  the 
same  young  man  he  had  known  in  Paris  before  the  war: 
the  Duchess'  lover,  who  followed  her  everywhere  and 
danced  with  her  at  the  Tango  teas.  Besides,  Michael 
felt  afraid  of  what  Castro  might  add,  reflecting  the 
"General's"  way  of  thinking. 

The  latter,  at  first,  on  learning  of  Alicia's  despair, 
had  felt  like  forgetting  the  quarrels  of  the  past,  and  had 
gone  of  her  own  accord  to  Villa  Rosa  to  console  the 
Duchess.  Since  the  "General"  was  very  patriotic,  the 
boy  who  had  died  in  Germany  seemed  to  her  a  hero. 
But  the  sudden  monopolizing  of  the  Spanish  Lieutenant, 


384  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

and  the  passionate  sympathy  which  obliged  Martinez  to 
spend  all  day  with  the  Duchess,  renewed  Dona  Clorinda's 
cool  hostility. 

The  Prince  guessed  what  she  and  her  friend  were 
thinking,  and  what  Castro  might  tell  if  he  dared  talk 
to  him  about  Alicia,  "She  has  just  lost  a  lover,  and 
while  she  is  weeping  with  theatrical  vehemence,  she  is 
getting  ready  for  another,  as  young  as  the  first.  A  crime 
indeed,  since  poor  Martinez  is  condemned  to  death, 
and  only  prolongs  his  days,  thanks  to  absolute  quiet.  The 
slightest  emotion  means  death  to  him." 

Lubimoff  could  not  tell  the  truth.  His  secret  was 
Alicia's.  Only  they  two  knew  the  true  identity  of  the 
prisoner  who  had  died  in  Germany,  and  as  long  as  she 
kept  silent,  he  must  do  the  same. 

One  night,  the  Colonel  gave  him  some  interesting  news. 
At  nightfall,  when  he  was  returning  from  the  Casino, 
he  had  seen  the  Duchess  de  Delille  from  the  street  car. 
Dressed  in  mourning  she  was  getting  out  of  a  hired  car- 
riage, in  the  Boulevard  des  Moulins,  opposite  the  church 
of  St.  Charles.  Later  she  had  ascended  the  steps  leading 
to  the  place  of  worship :  she  was  doubtless  going  to  pray 
for  her  protege.  And  Don  Marcos  said  this  with  a 
certain  emotion,  as  though  the  visit  to  the  church  can- 
celled all  the  gossip  he  had  been  hearing  in  the  previous 
few  days. 

Michael  had  a  presentiment  that  this  would  be  the 
means  of  rescuing  him  from  his  incertitude.  He  would 
meet  Alicia  at  the  church.  And  the  following  day,  to- 
ward evening,  he  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  Boule- 
vard des  Moulins,  without  losing  sight  of  the  one  church 
in  Monte  Carlo,  the  place  of  worship  of  gamblers  and 
wealthy  people,  which  seemed  to  maintain  a  certain 
rivalry  with  the  Cathedral  of  silent,  ancient  Monaco. 

This  continual  going  and  coming  finally  caught  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  385 

attention  of  the  shopkeepers  on  the  street  and  of  their 
clerks,  girls  with  hair  dressed  high  on  their  heads  in  a 
complicated  fashion,  who  seemed  to  be  dreaming  behind 
the  counters,  waiting  for  some  millionaire  to  lift  them 
from  their  position  of  unjust  obscurity.  "Prince  Lubim- 
ofT!"  They  all  knew  him,  and  his  fame  was  such  that 
immediately  a  hundred  eyes  curiously  sought  the  object 
of  his  promenading.  Doubtless  it  was  a  woman.  On  the 
deserted  balconies  women's  heads  began  to  appear,  fol- 
lowing his  maneuvers  more  or  less  overtly.  Window 
shades  went  up,  revealing  behind  the  panes  questioning 
eyes  and  smiling  lips.  "Might  it  be  for  me?"  This 
unexpressed  question  seemed  to  spread  from  one  window 
to  the  next. 

Annoyed  by  such  curiosity,  he  ascended  the  double  row 
of  steps  from  the  tiny  deserted  square  in  front  of  the 
church,  using  the  same  strategy  there  as  when  he  had 
lurked  in  the  neighborhood  of  Villa  Rosa.  He  peeped 
into  the  interior  of  the  sanctuary,  dotted  with  red  by  a 
number  of  lighted  tapers.  There  were  only  two  women, 
within,  both  of  them  dressed  in  mourning  and  kneeling. 
They  were  women  of  lowly  fortune,  wives  or  mothers 
of  men  killed  in  the  war.  On  returning  to  the  little 
square,  he  passed  the  time  reading  and  re-reading  the 
headlines  of  all  the  papers  displayed  on  the  newsstand. 
Then  he  started  off  down  a  street,  turned  into  another, 
walked  across  the  square  with  an  air  of  unconcern,  and 
hid  behind  a  corner,  taking  care  not  to  lose  sight  of  the 
entrance  to  the  church.  It  was  not  bad  waiting  there: 
there  were  no  passersby.  The  traffic  on  the  nearby  boule- 
vard was  invisible,  as  though  going  on  in  the  depths 
of  a  ditch.  Through  the  low  branches  of  some  trees, 
he  could  just  see  the  roofs  of  carriages  and  street  cars. 

Night  fell  and  she  did  not  come. 

The  following  day  Michael  returned,  but  discreetly. 


386  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

so  as  not  to  arouse  the  curiosity  of  the  shopkeepers.  He 
remained  for  long  hours  in  the  Httle  square  in  that  old 
part  of  the  city,  with  none  to  watch  him  save  a  melan- 
choly old  woman  who  sold  newspapers  at  a  stand  that 
had  no  customers.    Nor  did  Alicia  come  this  time. 

The  third  day,  when  he  was  beginning  to  doubt 
whether  there  was  any  use  of  waiting,  Alicia's  head  and 
shoulders  suddenly  appeared  above  the  line  of  the  top 
step.  Then  her  whole  body  emerged,  by  waves,  so  to 
speak,  as  her  feet  advanced  from  step  to  step.  Night 
was  falling.  On  the  fagades  of  the  buildings  on  the 
boulevard,  above  the  green  mass  of  the  trees,  the  fugitive 
sun  drew  a  golden  brush  stroke  along  the  rows  of  roofs. 

It  was  his  heart  that  recognized  her  even  before  his 
eyes,  just  as  on  the  day  when  he  had  seen  her  at  a  dis- 
tance in  the  carriage  accompanied  by  the  officer.  He 
had  a  feeling  of  shock  at  her  black  bonnet,  with  a  long 
mourning  veil  falling  on  her  shoulders.  The  emotion  he 
felt  on  seeing  her  and  the  spying  habit  he  had  recently 
acquired,  caused  him  to  draw  back,  and  she  entered  the 
church  without  seeing  him.  Ah,  now  he  had  her !  This 
time  she  could  not  escape,  he  would  have  a  great  many 
things  to  tell  her,  very,  very  many!  But  at  the  same 
time  he  became  rancorously  conscious  of  the  just  in- 
dictment against  her  which  he  had  prepared  in  advance; 
and,  in  spite  of  himself,  he  felt  afraid,  desperately  afraid 
of  the  possibility  that  she  might  meet  him  with  a  curt 
reply,  or  perhaps  not  speak  to  him  at  all. 

He  allowed  a  long  time  to  elapse.  Then  he  was  torn 
by  the  desire  of  seeing  her  again,  even  from  a  distance, 
and  he  entered  the  church,  but  cautiously,  trying  to  avoid 
a  premature  encounter. 

He  advanced  between  a  double  row  of  deserted 
benches.  There  in  the  background  were  the  same  women 
who  had  been  there  the  other  day,  still  kneeling,  as  though 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  387 

their  grief  were  unconscious  of  the  lapse  of  time.  In 
the  darkness  the  pale  gold  of  the  altar  pieces  became 
gradually  distinguishable,  and  two  masses  of  color,  two 
clusters  of  flags — those  of  the  Allied  countries,  which 
adorned  the  high  altar.  On  seeing  the  two  praying  fig- 
ures alone  in  the  church,  and  in  motionless  silence,  he 
thought  that  Alicia  must  have  fled  through  an  exit  of 
which  he  was  unaware.  But  she  appeared  from  a  door  on 
the  side,  followed  by  an  acolyte  who  was  carrying  two 
tapers.  Alicia  seemed  to  be  watching  how  the  tapers 
were  lighted  and  placed  in  their  sockets  in  front  of  the 
Virgin.  Then  she  knelt,  remaining  in  a  rigid  posture  on 
her  knees. 

Some  time  went  by.  And  Michael  watched  her,  as  she 
became,  like  the  two  poor  women,  a  mere  shape  in  black, 
motionless  in  prayer  and  supplication.  The  only  dis- 
tinguishing features  of  her  person  that  he  could  make 
out,  were  the  soles  of  her  elegant  shoes,  two  tiny  light- 
colored  tongues,  which  stood  out  against  the  black  silk 
of  her  skirt.  He  could  also  see  her  white  neck  writhing 
from  time  to  time,  as  though  trying  to  throw  off  the 
twining  veil  of  sorrow. 

He  felt  that  the  rancor  which  had  caused  him  to  de- 
sire this  meeting  was  vanishing.  Poor  woman!  He 
knew,  and  no  one  else  knew,  the  identity  of  the  young 
man  whose  death  she  had  come  to  mourn  in  this  temple. 
A  picture  of  the  Princess  Lubimoff  suddenly  arose  in  his 
memory,  vague  and  covered  with  the  dust  of  oblivion. 
The  Princess  had  been  insane;  but  she  was  his  mother, 
and  he  had  loved  her  so  dearly ! 

Immediately  afterward  his  egotism  revolted  against 
this  feeling.  It  was  natural  for  Alicia  to  weep  for  her 
son,  but  it  was  not  natural  that  she  should  have  broken 
with  him  without  any  explanation  whatsoever. 

Mechanically  he  advanced  toward  the  high  altar,  de- 


388  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

siring  to  see  her  closer  at  hand.  A  slight  movement  as 
she  prayed  caused  him  to  retrace  his  steps.  It  was  bet- 
ter that  she  should  not  recognize  him.  He  considered  it 
preferable  to  wait  for  her  outside  the  church,  with  the 
advantage  of  taking  her  by  surprise,  without  allowing 
her  time  to  invent  excuses  to  justify  her  conduct. 

It  was  beginning  to  grow  late,  when  Alicia  came  out, 
running  straight  into  Michael  Fedor  who  was  blocking 
her  path. 

Not  the  slightest  quiver  revealed  any  feeling  of  sur- 
prise. 

"You!"  she  said  simply. 

She  was  very  pale,  and  her  eyes  were  red  and  moist, 
as  though  she  had  just  been  weeping. 

Perhaps  she  had  seen  him  within  the  church,  and  was 
expecting  this  meeting  on  coming  out.  The  natural 
manner  in  which  she  greeted  his  presence  was  for  him 
a  just  disappointment. 

He  felt  he  must  speak  at  once,  relieving  himself  of 
the  burden  of  complaint  and  accusation,  which  had  been 
gathering  within  him  during  the  preceding  days.  There 
were  so  many,  that  they  clouded  his  thoughts.  But 
Alicia,  as  though  afraid  of  what  he  was  going  to  say, 
came  forward  and  began  to  talk  in  sad,  monotonous 
tones. 

She  had  been  coming  to  this  church  several  afternoons 
as  she  suddenly  felt  the  need  of  leaving  Villa  Rosa  with 
its  terrible  memories.    Oh,  the  arrival  of  that  telegram! 

"Now  I  am  a  believer,"  she  announced  simply. 

Immediately  afterward  she  corrected  the  statement, 
rather  through  humility  than  pride.  She  wanted  to  be 
a  believer,  but  in  reality  she  was  not.  She  remembered 
the  mother,  poor,  simple-minded  Dofia  Mercedes !  What 
would  she  not  give  to  have  the  confidence  in  the  Great 
Beyond  which  that  good  lady  had  had!    That  faith. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  389 

which  in  former  days  had  provoked  her  laughter,  seemed 
to  her  now  like  something  superior.  What  a  pity  she 
could  not  feel  the  resignation  of  humble  souls!  The 
irreligiousness  of  her  happy  days  still  remained  with 
her.  Those  who  enjoy  the  pleasant  things  of  life  do 
not  remember  death,  nor  do  they  think  of  what  may 
be  beyond.  No  one  feels  religious  sentiments  in  his 
soul  at  a  dance,  at  a  banquet,  or  at  a  rendezvous  with  a 
lover !  She  had  to  believe,  because  she  was  unhappy ! 
She  clung  to  religion  as  an  invalid  condemned  to  death 
by  the  doctors  in  whom  he  believes,  implores  in  despair 
the  services  of  a  quack,  in  whom  he  has  no  faith. 

"Grief  makes  mystics  of  us,"  she  continued.  "What 
I  regret  is  not  being  able  to  be  one  in  the  way  that 
others  are.  I  pray,  but  resignation  does  not  come  to 
my  aid." 

She  revolted  against  the  thought  of  annihilation  at 
death.  That  flesh  of  her  flesh  was  rotting  in  an  unknown 
cemetery  in  Germany !  And  was  that  the  end  ?  Could  it 
be  there  was  nothing  more?  Would  she  die  in  turn  and 
never  meet  again  in  a  superior  existence  the  son  in  whom 
she  had  concentrated  all  her  love  of  life?  Would  they 
both  be  blotted  out  of  reality,  like  two  infinitesimal 
points,  like  two  atoms,  whose  life  means  nothing? 

"I  must  believe,"  she  said  with  all  the  energy  of  her 
maternal  egotism.  "My  one  consolation  lies  in  the  hope 
that  we  shall  meet  again  in  a  better  world :  a  world  that 
knows  no  wars,  nor  death.  But  suddenly  my  confidence 
fails,  and  all  I  see  is  annihilation — annihilation  I  I  am 
greatly  to  be  pitied,  Michael." 

These  words  did  not  move  the  Prince,  in  spite  of  the 
despair  which  Alicia  put  into  them.  His  amorous  yearn- 
ing let  him  think  only  of  the  present. 

"And  I,"  he  said  in  a  reproachful  tone.  "You  deserted 
me  in  the  greatest  moment  of  our  lives!    You  are  un- 


390  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

happy;  all  the  more  reason  that  you  should  not  drive  me 
from  you.  I  can  put  cheer  into  your  life.  I  can  guess 
what  you  are  thinking.  No,  no,  I  do  not  insist  on  talking 
to  you  of  love.  Perhaps  later  on,  but  now!  .  .  .  Now, 
I  want  to  be  your  comrade,  your  brother,  whatever  you 
want  me  to  be,  but  at  your  side.  Why  do  you  avoid 
me  ?  Why  do  you  shut  your  door  to  me  as  you  would  to 
a  stranger?" 

And  incoherently  he  continued  his  laments,  his  pro- 
tests, his  rancor,  at  her  unexplainable  estrangement. 

"Am  I  to  blame  for  your  misfortune?"  he  finally 
asked.  "Am  I  a  different  man  to-day  than  I  was  the 
last  time  we  saw  each  other?" 

She  shook  her  head  sadly.  She  could  not  convince 
Michael  no  matter  how  much  she  might  talk;  it  was 
beyond  her  strength  to  explain  her  new  feelings.  She 
seemed  dismayed  at  the  obstacle  which  had  arisen  be- 
tween them. 

"Leave  me,  forget  me;  it  is  the  best  that  you  can 
do.  No;  you  haven't  changed,  my  poor  boy.  What 
harm  could  you  have  done  me,  you  who  are  so  kind,  so 
generous?  You  have  helped  me  to  learn  the  horrible 
truth;  it  was  through  you  that  I  discovered  it;  and  al- 
though it  is  killing  me,  I  feel  that  it  is  preferable  to 
uncertainty.  You  are  not  to  blame,  you  have  done  all 
that  I  asked  you  to  do.  But  listen  to  me,  I  beg  of  you : 
do  not  seek  me,  avoid  meeting  me,  leave  me!  It  is  the 
last  favor  I  ask  of  you.  It  is  only  away  from  you  that 
I  can  find  a  certain  peace  of  mind." 

Michael's  voice  lost  its  tones  of  supplication  and  be- 
gan to  quiver  with  a  vibration  of  anger.  How  could  he 
be  an  obstacle  to  her  tranquillity?  Hadn't  he  just  said 
that  he  wanted  to  be  a  comrade  in  her  misfortune,  with- 
out desires,  oblivious  of  love,  with  a  sweet  dispassionate 
affection,  like  that  of  friendship?     Now  that  she  was 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  391 

unhappy  he  felt  more  vehemently  a  desire  to  be  by  her 
side.    What  absurd  caprice  made  her  avoid  him? 

Alicia  looked  at  him  with  tearful  eyes,  which  re- 
flected the  hesitations  of  her  thoughts.  Finally  she 
seemed  to  have  made  up  her  mind. 

"You  haven't  changed,"  she  said,  in  a  subdued  voice, 
"but  I  am  different.  Misfortune  has  made  another  wo- 
man of  me.  I  do  not  recognize  myself.  I  am  dominated 
by  a  fixed  idea.  An  absurd  one  it  may  well  be ;  if  I  tell  it 
to  you,  I  know  that  you  will  protest  with  holy  indignation. 
No ;  you  are  not  to  blame ;  but  it  is  better  for  me  not  to 
see  you.  Your  presence  increases  my  remorse.  Seeing 
you,  I  feel  extraordinary  shame,  a  desire  to  die,  to  kill 
myself.  I  have  a  feeling  of  suspicion  that  it  was  I  who 
killed  my  son.  I  remember  all  that  took  place  between 
us;  and  I  recognize  God's  punishment." 

Lubimoff's  anger  vanished  at  these  inexplicable  words. 
Automatically  he  took  her  hands  with  caressing  gentle- 
ness, as  though  they  were  those  of  a  poor  sick  patient 
at  the  height  of  delirious  ravings.  She  should  be  calm! 
What  was  she  saying?  What  remorse  was  she  talking 
about?  Her  gloved  hands,  in  passive  resignation  of- 
fered no  resistance  to  his  touch ;  but  suddenly  they  woke 
to  life,  violently  freeing  themselves  from  those  of 
Michael,  as  though  they  had  just  received  a  hard  shock. 
"No  I  No !"  And  the  Prince  had  a  sort  of  feeling  that 
there  was  a  current  of  repulsion  between  them,  something 
that  he  had  never  experienced  until  then :  the  fear  of  his 
person. 

He  remained  so  disconcerted  and  humiliated  by  this 
movement  of  withdrawal,  that  he  did  not  know  what  to 
say.  She  took  advantage  of  his  silence  to  go  on  talking, 
but  as  though  she  did  not  see  the  man  who  was  standing 
before  her  eyes. 

"When  I  remember  all  that  .  .  .  what  a  shame!    My 


392  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

son,  my  poor  boy,  living  like  a  slave,  suffering  from 
hunger,  being  whipped,  he,  who  was  so  noble  and  so 
handsome  .  .  .  and  his  mother  here  acting  like  a  young 
girl,  going  into  ecstasies  over  ideal  love,  taking  poetic 
promenades  through  the  gardens,  exchanging  kisses.  An 
old  woman's  romantic  fancies.  The  gambling  follies 
might  even  be  pardoned.  I  thought  of  him  as  I  played ; 
the  money  was  for  him;  but  love!  ...  it  seems  impos- 
sible that  I  could  have  done  all  that  while  my  son  was  a 
prisoner  and  I  was  getting  no  news  from  him.  What 
diabo4ical  spell  was  upon  me?  And  God  has  punished 
me ;  and  if  not  God,  whoever  or  whatever  it  may  be ;  fate, 
a  mysterious  power  which  makes  us  expiate  our  short- 
comings, call  it  anything  you  like." 

Michael  attempted  to  protest,  but  she  went  on  talking : 
"I  know  what  you  are  going  to  tell  me;  but  it  won't 
do  any  good.  All  that  you  might  say  I  have  said  to  my- 
self again  and  again,  to  convince  myself  that  my  belief 
is  absurd.  And  what  would  that  prove?  All  that  we 
are  not  acquainted  with  is  absurd,  and  we  know  so  little ! 
No;  my  remorse  can  never  be  overcome.  No  matter 
what  you  may  say  will  not  keep  me  from  spending  my 
sleepless  nights  puzzling  things  out,  and  thinking  of 
certain  dates  in  my  recent  life.  When  I  began  to  be 
interested  in  you,  my  son  was  still  alive,  and  I  forgot 
him.  When  we  were  walking  through  the  gardens  of  San 
Martino,  he  was  perhaps  suffering  the  agonies  of  hunger, 
and  martyrdom,  and  I  like  the  heroine  in  a  novel,  like 
a  crazy  schoolgirl,  was  kissing  you,  and  making  you 
promises !  Besides,  the  arrival  of  the  telegram  the  same 
afternoon  that  you  were  going  to  come,  seemed  like 
something  definitive  in  my  life !  Don't  you  see  the  inter- 
vention of  a  superior  power,  the  punishment  for  my 
badness  ?" 

The  Prince  tried  to  speak  again,  but  in  vain. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  393 

"That  is  why  I  am  avoiding  you;  that  is  why  I  have 
not  replied  to  your  letters.  You  are  not  to  blame;  but 
you  mean  remorse  to  me,  and  your  presence  recalls  my 
crime.  Besides,  I  know  myself ;  I  am  only  a  poor,  weak 
woman,  the  very  personification  of  thoughtlessness,  and 
neglect.  If  I  were  to  accept  you  as  a  comrade  in  grief, 
since  I  am  not  indifferent  to  you,  perhaps  I  might  give 
in  to  what  you  want.  And  that  would  be  horrible,  still 
more  horrible  even  than  what  has  gone  before;  one  of 
those  offenses  which  people  maddened  by  passion  commit 
against  natural  laws.  Don't  try  to  see  me ;  I  don't  want 
to  see  you.  If  I  had  been  a  true  mother,  thinking  only 
of  him  .  .  .  who  knows!  .  .  .  Perhaps  he  would  still 
be  alive.  But  some  one  was  bent  on  punishing  me  for 
my  unnatural  conduct,  and  that  some  one  killed  him, 
so  that  I  might  awaken,  at  the  very  moment  when  in  my 
shameful  love,  I  felt  myself  happiest." 

Michael  no  longer  cared  to  say  anything.  He  looked 
at  this  woman  with  pity  and  dismay  in  his  eyes.  He  re- 
called the  Princess  Lubimoff  with  her  extravagant  beliefs 
in  the  mysterious;  and  of  Alicia's  own  mother,  with  her 
religious  manias.  Whatever  he  might  try  to  say  would 
be  useless.  That  absurd  and  sorrowing  conviction  of 
hers  had  opened  a  gap  between  them  like  a  gulf  that 
could  be  bridged  over  only  by  time. 

The  silence  of  the  Prince  caused  her  to  lose  the  nerv- 
ous exaltation  that  had  made  her  express  herself  with 
such  fervor. 

"Leave  me  now,"  she  murmured  gently.  "What  could 
I  do  for  you  ?  I  am  only  a  woman  now ;  I  am  an  old  wo- 
man, centuries  old,  as  old  as  sorrow  itself.  You  need  a 
sweetheart,  and  I  am  simply  a  bad  mother,  a  mother  tor- 
mented with  remorse." 

Her  renunciation  of  the  past,  and  the  feeling  that  she 
was  only  a  despairing  mother  caused  her  voice  to  break 


394  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

with  a  groan,  and  at  the  same  time  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  With  a  timid  hand  Michael  drew  away  the  hand- 
kerchief that  she  had  raised  to  her  face  to  hide  her 
weeping.  He  murmured  incoherent  phrases,  with  the 
intention  of  consoling  her;  but  immediately  he  was  mas- 
tered once  more  by  anger. 

"If  you  really  were  alone,"  he  said  in  bitter  tones,  "I 
could  wait,  and  perhaps  time  would  silence  the  after 
scruples  that  torment  you.  But  your  loneliness  is  a  lie. 
A  man  enters  your  house  at  all  hours  as  though  it  were 
his  own,  while  I  must  go  away,  so  that,  as  you  say,  you 
may  recover  your  tranquillity." 

With  a  feminine  instinct,  Alicia  had  hastened  to  raise 
the  handkerchief  to  her  face  again,  on  feeling  herself 
free  from  Michael's  hand.  She  felt  she  must  be  ugly 
with  her  watery  eyes,  her  pale  lips,  and  her  nose  red 
with  weeping.  But  the  words  of  the  Prince  gave  her  such 
a  shock  of  surprise,  such  a  desire  to  refute  the  offensive 
supposition,  that  she  took  the  wrinkled  batiste  from  her 
face. 

"You  are  referring  to  Martinez  ?    Poor  boy  \" 

He  was  giving  up  the  gay  society  of  his  comrades,  their 
promenades  in  company,  and  even  the  parties  to  which 
the  convalescent  officers  were  invited,  to  come  and  be 
bored  at  Villa  Rosa  beside  a  woman  who  could  do  noth- 
ing but  weep.  When  she  wanted  to  come  to  church  she 
had  to  oblige  him  to  go  for  an  hour  or  two  to  join  his 
comrades-in-arms  in  the  ante-room  at  the  Casino.  The 
visits  of  the  invalided  soldier  meant  so  much  to  her. 
They  were  pure  charity  on  his  part. 

"I  dream  that  he  is  my  son.  His  age  and  his  uniform 
aid  in  this  illusion.  You  have  never  had  any  children; 
it  is  impossible  for  you  to  know  the  necessity  we  feel, 
when  we  have  lost  them,  to  transfer  our  bereaved  affec- 
tion to  other  beings,  imagining  that  they  look  like  those 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  395 

who  are  gone.  I  need  to  go  on  being  a  mother,  nor  can 
I  be  anything  else ;  and  this  unhappy  boy  never  knew  his 
own  mother.  He  has  no  one  in  the  world,  and  is  as 
much  alone  as  I  am.  Please,  let  me  enjoy  a  little  illusion 
wherever  I  can  find  it.  The  poor  fellow  is  so  grateful  for 
my  affection !  He  feels  so  happy  beside  me !  Remember  : 
he  is  condemned  to  death,  and  only  maternal  care,  and 
pleasant  quiet  surroundings,  can  possibly  prolong  his 
days." 

She  wanted  to  accomplish  this  task,  perhaps  for  a 
selfish  reason,  to  obliterate  from  her  memory,  with  a 
great  generous  deed,  all  the  evil  she  had  done  before. 
She  wanted  him  to  be  her  son,  a  son  born  of  her  grief, 
to  whom  she  might  devote  everything  that  it  was  now 
impossible  for  her  to  do  for  her  real  son. 

Now,  Michael,  too,  was  silent,  realizing  the  useless- 
ness  of  insisting  any  further.  He  knew  Alicia's  char- 
acter. Behind  her  plaintive  voice,  he  guessed  the  reso- 
lute will  to  keep  by  her  side  that  young  man  who  re- 
freshed her  maternal  feelings  and  was  at  the  same  time  a 
means  of  consolation  for  the  remorse  which  she  had 
taken  upon  herself. 

The  consideration  of  his  powerlessness  finally  irritated 
him,  made  him  feel  a  cruel  desire  to  hurt  that  woman. 

"You  are  doing  wrong,  Alicia.  Society  is  unaware  of 
your  secret.  You  know  what  people  said  before  about 
you  and  your  son.  You  laughed,  yourself,  finding  such 
a  mistake  amusing.  Now  the  equivocation  continues 
with  more  reason.  Many  people  imagine  you  have  sub- 
stituted another  young  man  for  the  young  man  that 
died." 

Alicia  lost  her  sad  serenity. 

"How  disgusting!"  she  said.  "How  can  they  think 
that.    Poor  Martinez!    He  is  so  good!    So  respectful!" 

Then  she  continued  arrogantly: 


396  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

**Let  them  say  what  they  like!  I  want  to  forget  so- 
ciety ;  let  society  forget  me.  I  am  dead  as  far  as  people 
are  concerned." 

But  Michael  in  his  spite  still  dwelt  on  the  subject. 

"The  other  man  was  your  son,  and  I  knew  he  was. 
This  man  is  not,  and  I  know  the  power  of  seduction  that 
you  exercise,  even  against  your  will.  Remember  'the 
old  men  on  the  wall.'  " 

Wherever  she  went,  men's  glances  would  cling  to  her 
rhythmic  body;  and  that  young  man,  that  queer  fellow, 
would  finally  .  .  . 

He  was  unable  to  continue. 

"You,  too!"  she  exclaimed.  "Good-by,  don't  come 
after  me.  I  shall  always  think  of  you ;  but  it  is  better  for 
us  not  to  see  each  other.  Don't  bear  me  a  grudge.  Per- 
haps some  day!  .  .  ."  And  she  resolutely  turned  her 
back  on  him,  and  descended  the  steps  toward  the  boule- 
vard. 

The  Prince  remained  motionless  for  a  few  minutes. 
Then  he  advanced  toward  the  top  step,  but  all  he  could 
see  was  a  carriage  with  the  hood  raised,  and  two  horses 
starting  to  trot  away. 

And  the  meeting  with  Alicia  he  had  so  ardently  de- 
sired had  come  to  this !  The  feeling  of  spite  caused  him 
to  judge  himself  harshly;  he  hadn't  known  how  to  talk. 
Later  he  recalled  all  his  reasoning  and  his  accusations, 
and  felt  amazed  at  the  slight  effect  they  had  had  on  her. 
Yes,  indeed,  she  was  a  different  woman.  Some  one  had 
changed  her;  some  one  was  to  blame  for  this  absurd 
situation. 

He  spent  a  great  part  of  that  night  reflecting.  It  did 
not  occur  to  him  to  blame  Alicia.  He  even  repented  of 
his  angry  words.  Unhappy  woman !  Her  extreme  over- 
sensitiverfess  was  causing  her  to  find  reason  for  shame 
and  remorse  in  all  that  she  had  ever  done. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  397 

"Besides,  women,"  he  continued  to  himself,  "at  the 
least  nervous  shock  lose  their  logical  faculty  first  of  all." 

He  felt  a  need  of  concentrating  all  his  anger  on  some 
one  besides  her;  and  Michael,  never  imagining  that  he 
himself  had  lost  his  logical  faculty,  put  the  responsibility 
for  everything  on  Martinez.  The  latter  was  the  one  per- 
son to  blame.  If  he  had  not. come  between  them,  Alicia, 
on  finding  herself  alone  in  misfortune,  would  have  sought 
once  more  the  support  of  the  Prince.  What  a  gift  the 
"General"  had  made  them,  presenting  this  adventurer ! 

His  reason  vainly  argued  that  it  was  not  the  officer 
who  was  seeking  Alicia,  but  the  latter  who  was  keeping 
him  in  her  home,  cutting  him  off  from  his  old  friendships. 
Lubimoff  was  not  willing  to  give  up  his  spite.  It  was 
Martinez  and  no  one  else  who  had  come  between  them. 

Up  to  that  time  he  had  not  paid  much  attention  to 
the  boy  whorti  Toledo  called  the  "hero."  There  were  so 
many  heroes  at  that  moment !  In  his  hatred  he  began  to 
strip  him  of  the  prestige  given  him  by  his  deeds  and  his 
misfortune,  Michael  saw  him  without  his  uniform,  with- 
out his  war  crosses  and  his  wounds,  such  as  he  must  have 
been  before  the  war ;  a  poor  employee,  a  business  clerk, 
whose  dreams  of  love  had  never  gone  beyond  a  milliner 
or  a  stenographer.  And  this  was  the  interesting  person- 
age who  had  the  temerity  to  face  him !  Prince  Michael 
Fedor  Lubimoff.    What  intolerable  times ! 

The  following  day  he  walked  about  his  garden  all 
morning,  resolved  never  to  return  to  Monte  Carlo.  He 
was  filled  with  scorn  at  the  thought  of  the  tenderness 
with  which  Alicia  had  spoken  of  her  protege.  It  was 
better  that  he  should  not  encounter  him.  But  in  the  after- 
noon the  loneliness  of  his  beautiful  Villa  weighed  on  him. 
It  seemed  deserted.  Atilio,  the  pianist,  and  even  the 
Colonel  were  all  at  the  Casino.  He,  too,  decided  to  go, 
to  mingle  with  the  crowd  which   was  dividing  its  at- 


398  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

tention  between  the  hazards  of  war  and  the  hazards 
of  chance. 

In  the  anteroom  he  walked  toward  the  groups  who 
were  gathered  around  the  bulletin  board  reading  the 
latest  telegrams.  The  crowd  considered  the  news  good, 
since  it  was  not  extremely  bad  as  on  the  preceding  days. 
The  Allies  had  stopped  the  enemy's  advance,  holding 
them  at  a  standstill  on  the  ground  they  had  just  con- 
quered. The  bombardment  of  Paris  with  long  range 
guns  was  still  continuing.    And  that  was  all. 

There  was  a  man  making  comments  in  a  loud  voice.  It 
was  Toledo,  who,  as  was  his  custom  every  afternoon,  was 
giving  a  lecture  on  strategy  to  a  semi-circle  of  admirers. 
With  his  back  to  the  Prince,  he  was  spouting  a  stream  of 
clear  optimism,  with  a  simple  faith  that  misfortune  and 
reverses  could  not  move. 

"Now  they  have  nailed  them  in  their  tracks:  they 
won't  advance  any  farther.  In  a  short  time  will  be  the 
counter-attack.  I  am  sure  of  it;  it  is  clear  as  daylight 
to  me." 

Don  Marcos  rubbed  his  hands,  and  slyly  winked  one 
eye. 

"And  the  Americans  are  coming  and  coming.  There 
are  days  when  as  many  as  ten  thousand  of  them  are 
landed  here.  A  wonderful  people!  I  have  always  said 
so!  That  fellow  Wilson  is  a  great  man.  I  know  him 
well." 

They  all  listened  with  delight  to  this  voice  of  hope 
that  refreshed  their  hearts  before  they  gave  themselves 
up  to  the  strain  and  stress  of  roulette  and  trente  et  guar- 
ante.  He  talked  with  the  authority  of  a  man  who  has 
influential  connections,  and  is  informed  of  everything. 
"He  knew  Wilson,"  he  had  just  said  so  himself.  Be- 
sides, he  was  a  Colonel — although  none  of  them  knew 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  399 

in  what  army — an  expert,  capable  of  expressing  an  un- 
founded opinion.  And  many  of  them  lost  no  time  in 
hastening  to  the  gambling  rooms  to  repeat  his  views,  as 
though  they  had  just  received  some  inside  information. 

The  Prince  withdrew,  afraid  that  his  presence  might 
put  an  end  to  that  professional  triumph  of  Toledo, 
which  was  repeated  every  day. 

As  he  walked  about  the  anteroom  before  entering 
the  gaming  halls,  he  saw  beside  a  column,  a  group  of 
French  officers,  all  of  whom  were  convalescents.  Denied 
the  permission  to  go  any  further,  because  of  their  uni- 
form, they  were  standing  there,  looking  with  a  certain 
envy  on  the  civilians.  A  few  of  them  were  standing 
erect,  without  any  visible  infirmity,  with  the  sharp  fea- 
tures of  an  eagle,  aquiline  nose,  bold  eyes,  and  wild 
mustache.  Others,  with  youthful  faces,  were  bent  over 
like  ailing  men,  leaning  on  canes,  and  wearing  wrinkled 
uniforn\s  much  too  large  for  their  sunken  chests.  Each 
time  th-ey  decided  to  move  their  legs  they  made  a  long 
pause  as  though  to  muster  every  bit  of  their  will  power 
available.  Some  of  them  had  come  to  Monaco  as  in- 
curables, after  a  long  captivity  in  Germany.  The  rest 
came  from  hospitals  on  the  firing  line.  On  the  faces  of 
all  of  ^hem  was  an  expression  of  joyous  bewilderment 
at  finding  themselves  in  this  corner  of  the  earth,  that  was 
like  a  Paradise,  where  people  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
the  re^t  of  the  world,  and  women's  eyes  followed  them 
with  'inigmatic  glances,  half  amorous  and  half  maternal! 

One  of  the  soldiers  raised  his  hand  to  his  cap  to 
salute  the  Prince.  The  latter  looked  at  the  yellowish 
color  of  his  kepis,  then  at  his  uniform  which  was  of  the 
same  color,  and  at  the  multi-colored  line  of  decorations. 
It  was  Martinez,  the  lieutenant  in  the  Foreign  Legion, 
was  saluting  him  with  a  certain  timidity,  but  pleased 


400  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

at  the  same  time  that  his  comrades  were  seeing  him  on 
friendly  terms  with  the  famous  personage,  who  was  so 
much  talked  about  on  the  Riviera. 

Michael  returned  his  greeting  mechanically  and  went 
on.  That  moment  remained  fixed  in  his  memory  all  his 
life.  Age  and  the  discretion  that  accompanies  it  seemed 
to  fall  from  him  like  dry  bark  from  a  tree  in  spring- 
time. He  felt  as  though  he  were  back  in  his  youth.  For 
a  few  moments  he  was  the  same  Captain  Lubimoff  of  the 
imperial  Guards,  who  had  trampled  on  obstacles  and 
braved  scandal  when  any  one  opposed  his  will. 

He  turned  to  look  at  the  group  of  officers  from  a  dis- 
tance. That  little  insignificant  Lieutenant,  who  looked 
like  a  bookkeeper,  promoted  by  mobilization,  was  his 
enemy !  It  seemed  as  though  he  were  seeing  him  for  the 
first  time.  Lost  among  his  companions  he  appeared  even 
more  insignificant  than  when  he  visited  Villa  Sirena. 

Michael  remained  motionless,  with  his  glance  fixed 
on  the  group.  "You  are  going  to  do  something  foolish," 
admonished  a  voice  within  him.  And  there  passed  through 
his  memory  the  image  of  stem  Saldana,  kindly  and  toler- 
ant with  the  weak,  like  every  one  who  is  sure  of  his 
strength.  He  recalled  one  of  his  sayings  which  had 
never  before  crossed  his  mind:  "A  gentleman  must  be 
kind  and  never  take  unfair  advantage  of  his  strength.'* 
He  was  sure  that  his  father  had  said  that  to  him  when 
he  was  a  child.  But  immediately  the  duality  of  his 
inner  being  expressed  itself  through  another  voice  which 
was  stronger  and  more  imperious,  a  woman's  voice  like 
that  of  the  other  counselor  of  his  youth:  "Spend;  don't 
deny  yourself  anything,  put  yourself  above  everybody; 
always  remember  that  you  are  a  Lubimoflf."  And  he  saw 
the  dead  Princess,  not  the  Mary  Stuart  with  her  the- 
atrical mourning  robes,  but  the  dominating  and  still 
beautiful  woman,  the  one  who  had  overwhelmed   her 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  401 

husband  "the  hero"  with  her  rage,  and  turned  the  Paris 
residence  upside  down. 

Suddenly  he  found  himself  near  the  group  of  officers, 
and  again  his  eyes  met  those  of  Martinez.  The  latter 
came  toward  him  with  a  smile  of  interrogation.  Michael 
realized  that  he  had  beckoned  to  the  soldier,  without 
being  aware  of  what  he  was  doing,  through  an  impulse 
of  will  which  seemed  entirely  detached  from  his  reason. 

"So  much  the  worse!  Let's  get  through  with  the 
business !" 

With  a  certain  haste,  he  took  the  young  man  toward 
the  vestibule  of  the  Casino  as  though  anxious  to  avoid 
the  presence  of  the  groups  who  were  filling  the  ante- 
room. 

"Lieutenant,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you.  ...  I 
must  .  .  .  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

He  stammered,  not  knowing  how  to  express  the  com- 
mand which  he  himself  felt  was  absurd. 

This  vacillation,  together  with  the  trembling  in  his 
voice,  finally  irritated  him. 

They  stopped  beside  the  glass  door  at  the  entrance. 
Martinez  was  no  longer  smiling,  as  he  gazed  in  amaze- 
ment at  the  hard  look  and  the  pallor  of  the  Prince. 

"In  a  word,"  the  latter  said  resolutely;  "what  I  have 
to  ask  you  is  that  you  pay  fewer  visits  at  the  house  of  the 
Duchess  de  Delille.  If  you  should  refrain  entirely  from 
going  to  see  her,  it  would  be  even  better."  And  he 
paused,  breathing  with  a  certain  freedom,  after  having 
expressed  this  demand. 

An  expression  of  amazement  gradually  took  possession 
of  Martinez'  face.  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  on  Lubimoff's.  No,  it  was  not  a  jest :  the 
hostile  look  of  this  man  who  had  always  treated  him 
with  amiable  indifference,  the  sharpness  of  his  tone,  and 
a  certain  trembling  of  his  right  hand,  indicated  that  he 


402  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

had  expressed  his  real  thoughts,  and  that  behind  these 
thoughts  lay  enormous  depths  of  hatred  against  him. 

His  surprise  caused  him  to  talk  with  timidity.  He 
visited  the  Duchess  because  the  lady  asked  him  to  come 
and  see  her  every  day.  He  had  often  felt  his  assiduity 
might  prove  to  be  a  nuisance,  but  every  attempt  he  had 
made  to  break  off  his  visits  had  been  fruitless.  He 
scarcely  left  her  for  a  few  hours  but  the  good  lady  had 
him  sent  for.  She  was  as  kind  to  him  as  a  mother.  Sud- 
denly his  humble  tone  vanished.  His  eyes  guessed  in 
those  of  the  man  who  had  stopped  him  something  that  he 
himself  had  never  imagined.  The  Lieutenant  seemed 
transfigured,  as  though  rising  to  the  same  level  as  the 
Prince.  His  eyes  -shone  with  the  same  wild  splendor 
as  the  other  man's;  his  body  stiffened  with  the  tension 
of  a  spring  about  to  be  released;  his  nostrils  quivered 
nervously.  The  little  clerk,  with  his  timid  bearing,  re- 
covered the  air  of  gallant  bravery  of  the  fighting  man. 
His  voice  sounded  harsh,  as  he  went  on  talking. 

He  would  go  wherever  he  was  asked,  wherever  he  felt 
like  going,  without  recognizing  the  right  of  any  man  to 
interfere  in  his  actions.  The  Duchess  was  the  only  one 
who  could  close  her  door  to  him.  Why  did  the  Prince 
interfere  in  that  lady's  affairs  without  consulting  her 
first? 

"I  am  related  to  her,"  said  Michael,  inwardly  hesitating 
somewhat  at  making  use  of  the  relationship  which  he 
had  often  preferred  to  deny. 

They  both  found  themselves  on  the  other  side  of  the 
entry,  on  the  platform  above  the  steps  of  the  Casino, 
in  the  open  air,  opposite  the  groves  of  the  square  and 
the  groups  of  passersby  who  were  walking  about  the 
"Camembert."  They  were  obliged  to  stand  aside,  in 
order  not  to  disturb  those  who  were  entering  and  coming 
out. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  403 

"Besides,"  continued  the  Prince,  "it  is  my  duty  to 
shield  her  from  gossip.  I  cannot  permit  that.  Seeing 
you  in  there  at  all  hours,  they  should  suppose  .  .  ." 

He  almost  regretted  these  words  on  noticing  the 
double  effect  that  they  had  on  the  young  man.  First  he 
became  indignant.  Had  any  one  dared  gossip  about  that 
great  lady  who  had  been  such  a  saint  in  his  eyes?  But 
this  protest  was  accompanied  by  a  certain  unconscious 
satisfaction,  by  childish  pride,  as  though  he  were  flat- 
tered, in  spite  of  everything  that  his  name  should  be 
connected  in  absurd  conjecture  with  that  of  the  Duchess. 
It  seemed  that  Martinez  had  just  been  revealed  to  him- 
self, giving  substance  and  a  name  to  the  obscure  senti- 
ments that  until  then,  in  an  embryonic  stage,  had  pulsed 
unrecognized  within  him. 

The  jealous  mind  of  the  Prince  guessed,  with  keen 
penetration,  everything  that  the  other  man  was  thinking, 
and  this  added  fuel  to  his  wrath.  What  impudence  in 
this  little  clerk  to  take  up  Alicia's  defense?  What  a 
conceited  show  he  was  making  of  his  love  for  her ! 

"If  any  one  takes  the  liberty  of  talking  about  the 
Duchess,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "if  anybody  dares  to 
gossip  because  she  does  me  the  honor  of  receiving  me 
in  her  home — the  greatest  honor  in  my  life ! — I  will  take 
it  on  my  shoulders  to  punish  whoever  invents  such  a  lie, 
no  matter  how  high  up  he  may  be,  no  matter  how  power- 
ful he  may  think  himself  to  be !" 

Lubimoff  listened  impatiently.  Now  it  was  Martinez 
daring  to  attack  him.  Those  last  words  had  carried  a 
threat  for  him. 

Besides,  the  Prince  felt  irritated  at  his  own  clumsiness. 
His  imprudent  action  had  served  merely  to  open  this 
young  man's  eyes,  and  make  him  think  of  the  possibilities 
of  many  things  which  he  had  never  yet  imagined,  and 
which  if  he  had  imagined  them,  he  would  have  cast  aside 


404  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

immediately  as  foolish.  And  now  no  less  than  the  Prince 
Lubimoff  had  elected  to  show  this  cheap  Lieutenant  that, 
in  the  opinion  of  gossips,  such  things  were  possible. 

The  tone  in  which  the  officer  defended  Alicia  aroused 
his  anger  even  more.  He  divined  in  it  great  pride,  the 
vanity  of  a  poor  fellow  who  had  known  love  adventures 
only  in  books,  and  who  suddenly  found  himself  in  sui>- 
posed  relations  with  a  Duchess,  as  the  rival  of  a  Prince. 
How  glorious  for  an  upstart! 

"Boy  .  .  ."  said  Lubimoff,  in  a  hard  voice. 

This  simple  word,  which  was  the  term  in  which  waiters 
were  addressed  in  the  hotels,  was  followed  by  a  haughty 
look  of  overwhelming  superiority,  which  seemed  to  sweep 
away  everything  extraordinary  which  the  war  had  given 
Martinez :  his  uniform,  his  decorations,  and  his  glorious 
wounds.  For  the  Prince  the  officer  no  longer  existed : 
there  only  remained  the  poor  vagabond  of  a  few  yealT 
before,  wandering  from  one  hemisphere  to  another  in 
quest  of  bread.  "Boy,"  he  repeated  in  a  tone  that  brought 
back  all  the  class  distinction  and  social  gradations  of 
dead  centuries,  so  that  the  man  whom  he  had  accosted 
might  realize  the  enormous  separation  between  him  and 
the  man  to  whom  he  deigned  to  give  advice 

"Boy,  let's  come  to  the  point — .  And  if  I  were  to 
order  you  not  to  return  to  that  house?  And  if  I  demand 
that  .    .    .?" 

He  was  unable  to  finish  the  sentence.  His  threatening 
voice,  harsh  as  a  cry  of  command,  roused  the  indignation 
of  the  man  in  uniform.  To  have  faced  death  for  three 
long  years,  among  thousands  of  comrades  who  were  now 
lying  in  the  ground ;  to  have  learned  to  set  little  store  on 
life,  as  something  proved  worthless  at  every  moment 
on  the  battlefield;  to  have  stripped  himself  forever,  by 
dint  of  frightful  adventures  and  awful  wounds,  of  that 
fear  which  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  puts  in  all 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  .WOMEN  405 

beings,  only  to  the  end  that  now,  in  a  pleasure  resort,  at 
the  door  of  the  most  luxurious  of  gambling  houses,  a 
man,  rich  and  powerful,  but  who  had  never  done  any- 
thing useful  in  his  whole  life,  should  dare  to  threaten 
him!  .    .    . 

"You  say  that  to  me !"  he  said,  stammering  with  rage. 
"You  give  orders  to  me !" 

Michael  felt  a  hand  seize  him  by  the  lapel  of  his  coat. 
It  was  like  a  bird,  tremulous  and  aggressive,  pausing 
for  an  instant  in  its  blind  impulse,  before  flying  upward. 
He  was  aware  of  the  blow  that  was  coming,  and  raised 
his  arm  instinctively,  both  hands  met  as  that  of  the  young 
man  whirled  close  to  the  face  of  the  Prince.  The  latter, 
who  was  stronger,  seized  the  ascending  hand  and  held  it 
motionless,  in  a  firm  grip,  while  at  the  same  time  he 
smiled  in  a  gruesome  fashion.  His  eyes  contracted  as  his 
eyebrows  arched  in  the  smile.  They  became  again  the 
eyes  of  an  Asiatic.  His  nostrils  dilated  as  he  breathed 
like  a  stallion.  The  remote  ancestors  of  the  Princess 
Lubimoff  must  have  smiled  thus  in  their  moments  of 
anger. 

"Enough :  I  consider  that  I  have  received  it,"  he  said 
slowly,  "Name  two  friends  to  confer  with  mine !" 

And  freeing  that  hand  of  Martinez,  he  turned  his  back 
on  him,  after  making  a  deep  bow.  The  movements  of 
both  men  had  been  rapid.  Only  one  of  the  doorkeepers, 
with  his  official  cap,  standing  guard  on  the  platform 
above  the  steps,  had  guessed  that  anything  had  happened ; 
but  his  professional  experience  advised  him  to  remain 
passive  as  long  as  there  were  no  blows.  He  imagined 
that  it  was  merely  a  dispute  over  some  gambling  affair. 
It  would  all  be  settled  by  an  explanation,  and  forgotten 
after  a  winning !     He  had  seen  so  many  such  things ! 

Prince  Lubimoff  reenters  the  Casino.  He  crosses 
the  vestibule  and  the  anteroom  holding  his  head  high, 


4o6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

but  without  seeing  any  one,  gazing  straight  ahead,  with  a 
faraway  expression. 

It  seems  to  him  that  time  has  suddenly  been  reversed, 
causing  him  to  return  to  the  past  with  one  bound.  He 
is  back  in  his  youth.  He  walks  arrogantly.  He  is  sur- 
prised that  the  sound  of  his  firm  tread  is  not  accompan- 
ied by  the  tinkling  of  spurs  and  the  metallic  scraping 
of  a  saber.  At  the  same  time  he  begins  to  see  imaginary 
faces,  faces  of  those  who  disappeared  from  the  earth 
many  years  ago :  the  Cossack  who  had  come  from  a  dis- 
tant garrison  in  Siberia  to  avenge  his  sister;  a  friend  in 
the  same  regiment  as  the  Prince,  who  died  from  a  sword 
thrust  in  his  breast  after  a  tumultuous  supper,  while 
Lubimoff  wept,  suddenly  awakening  from  his  homicidal 
intoxication;  the  faces  of  others  who  had  been  present 
as  mere  witnesses,  but  who  had  died  and  were  now  resur- 
rected in  his  memory,  cold  and  insensible  to  remorse  and 
vain  regrets. 

"The  Colonel.    Where  in  the  devil  is  the  Colonel!" 

He  crosses  the  gambling  room,  in  quest  of  a  gray  head, 
with  a  straight  part  from  the  forehead  to  the  back  of 
the  neck,  dividing  the  glistening  hair  into  two  shining 
sections.  He  sees  it  finally  rising  above  the  back  of  a 
divan,  between  two  women's  hats,  four  eyes  darkly  bor- 
dered as  though  in  mourning,  and  cheeks  with  wrinkles 
filled  with  white  and  rose-colored  enamel.  A  terse  sen- 
tence of  the  Prince  interrupts  the  explanations  of  the 
war  news  with  which  the  Colonel  had  been  thrilling  the 
two  ladies. 

"Colonel,  an  affair  of  honor.  I  intend  to  fight  to-mor- 
row.   Look  for  another  second." 

Toledo  seems  disconcerted  by  this  order.  His  first 
thought  flies  to  Villa  Sirena.  He  sees  his  black  frock 
coat,  the  solemn  vestment  of  honor  ready  to  leave  its 
prison.     Then  a  cloud  of  doubt  obscures  this  joyous 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  407 

thought.  A  duel !  Would  it  be  fitting  now  that  men  are 
fighting  in  masses  of  millions,  giving  their  lives  for 
something  higher  and  more  important  than  personal 
hatred?  His  training  immediately  smothers  this  scruple. 
"A  gentleman  should  always  be  at  the  orders  of  another 
gentleman."  Besides,  it  is  his  Prince.  And  ready  to  ful- 
fill his  mission,  he  asks  the  name  of  the  adversary. 

"Lieutenant  Martinez." 

Don  Marcos  thinks  he  had  heard  wrong ;  then  he  seems 
to  totter  and  stands  there  looking  at  his  "Highness"  in 
a  sort  of  stupor.  Instinctively,  without  taking  the  pains 
to  disentangle  the  confused  thoughts  that  assail  him,  he 
sees  in  his  imagination  the  Duchess  de  Delille.  Why  did 
the  Prince  ever  give  up  his  wise  theories  on  the  woman 
question !  He  recalls,  like  a  happy  past,  the  flourishing 
days  of  the  "enemies  of  women"  !  Only  four  months  had 
gone  by,  and  it  seems  as  though  they  were  centuries.  A 
duel  right  in  war  time — and  with  an  officer !  And  that 
officer  is  Martinez,  his  hero ! 

He  shrugs  his  shoulders,  bows  his  head,  and  makes  a 
gesture  denying  all  responsibility  as  he  always  does  when 
his  Prince,  with  a  hard  look  on  his  face  which  reminds 
Toledo  of  the  dead  Princess  in  her  stormy  days,  gives 
absurd  orders. 

"Shall  I  look  for  Don  Atilio?  He  has  had  several 
affairs  of  honor;  he  knows  what  it  means,  and  may  be 
able  to  help  me." 

The  Prince  is  willing.  In  the  bar  of  the  private  gam- 
bling rooms,  he  will  wait  for  them  both  to  talk  over  the 
conditions  of  the  encounter. 

He  remains  motionless  in  a  deep  armchair,  opposite  a 
window  gilded  by  the  light  of  the  setting  sun,  on  which 
the  threads  of  shadows,  projected  by  the  moving  branches 
of  the  trees,  weave  and  unweave.  Suddenly  it  seems  to 
him  that  he  is  obliged  to  wait  an  unreasonable  length  of 


4o8  THE  ENEMIES.  OF  WOMEN 

time.  It  occurs  to  him  that  Castro  is  not  in  the  Casino 
and  that  Don  Marcos  is  looking  for  him  in  vain.  He 
scarcely  remembers  the  past  at  all.  The  officer's  figure 
is  sunk  into  a  gray  mist  which  falls  across  his  memory: 
it  is  no  longer  anything  save  a  vague  outline.  The  one 
thing  that  he  can  see,  in  sharp  relief  and  as  though  loom- 
ing close  to  his  eyes,  is  a  hand :  a  hand  which  is  gripping 
his  breast  and  rising  toward  his  face,  that  no  man  ever 
yet  had  slapped.  His  indignation  causes  him  to  come 
out  of  his  deep  fit  of  distraction.  To  do  that  to  him! 
Trying  to  slap  Prince  Lubimoff ! 

When  he  raises  his  eyes  he  sees  Toledo  approaching, 
but  alone,  with  a  certain  embarrassment,  fearing  in  ad- 
vance the  anger  of  the  Prince.  The  latter,  who  feels 
kindly  and  tolerant  since  the  scene  of  violence  on  the 
stairway,  guesses  what  he  is  going  to  say  to  him.  He 
has  not  found  Castro  and  he  absolves  him  with  a  benevo- 
lent smile. 

The  Colonel  speaks: 

"Marquis:    Don  Atilio  refuses." 

"What !"  And  at  the  questioning  glance  of  Lubimoff, 
who  cannot  understand,  and  who  does  not  want  to  under- 
stand what  he  hears,  Toledo  repeats,  growing  more  and 
more  embarrassed. 

"He  refuses  to  be  your  representative.  He  told  me  to 
find  some  one  else.  He  has  some  ideas  of  his  own 
that  ..." 

And  he  hesitates  to  express  these  ideas.  He  stops,  in 
order  not  to  say  anything  which  the  Prince  ought  not  to 
hear  from  his  lips :  and  he  accepts  as  a  blessing  the 
sijence  of  amazement  which  comes  between  them;  he  is 
afraid  to  let  the  Prince  recover  from  the  astonishment 
with  which  this  news  has  overwhelmed  him. 

As  he  starts  to  go  away,  he  proposes  something  which 
seems  to  him  a  way  out. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  409 

"Does  your  Highness  want  me  to  call  Don  Atilio  ?  He 
will  surely  come.  Perhaps  the  two  of  you  talking  to- 
gether ..." 

And  he  goes  away  in  search  of  Castro,  while  Michael 
Fedor  once  more  becomes  motionless  in  his  seat,  quite 

unable  to  comprehend  the  situation, 

******* 

The  Prince  saw  Castro  standing  by  the  little  table  close 
to  his  chair,  with  a  certain  appearance  of  haste  in  his 
look  and  bearing,  like  a  man  who  is  facing  a  difficult  situ- 
ation, and  anxious  to  get  out  of  it  as  soon  as  possible. 

The  Prince  invited  him  to  take  the  nearest  seat,  but 
Castro  consented  only  to  sit  down  lightly  on  the  arm  of 
the  chair,  to  indicate  his  desire  that  the  interview  be 
brief.  Besides,  he  spoke  first,  bluntly  expressing  his 
thoughts,  without  any  preamble. 

"The  Colonel  has  doubtless  told  you  my  reply.  I  can't. 
You  know  very  well  that  I  am  your  friend :  you  even  do 
me  the  honor  of  recognizing  me  as  a  relative ;  I  owe  you 
a  great  deal ;  but  what  you  ask  me  now  .  .  .  no !  It  is 
a  piece  of  foolishness,  madness.  It  all  had  to  end  like 
this !  There  was  no  other  way  out  of  it.  I  had  a  pre- 
sentiment of  it  some  time  ago.  Perhaps  you  were  right 
when  you  talked  about  women  as  you  did,  and  about  the 
necessity  of  being  their  enemies — if  such  a  thing  is  pos- 
sible. But  it  doesn't  do  any  good  to  bring  up  the  past : 
You  are  no  longer  the  Lubimoff  who  said  those  incoher- 
ent things.  As  for  me  I  am  mad,  I'll  grant  you  that :  but 
you  are  even  more  so  than  I :  and  for  that  reason  I  can't 
be  with  you." 

Michael  looked  at  him  fixedly,  without  abandoning  his 
silent  immobility,  waiting  for  him  to  go  on. 

"A  duel  right  in  war  time!  Is  there  any  common 
sense  to  that?  You  are  the  gentleman  who  remains 
quietly  in  his  home,  with  all  the  comforts  that  the  pres- 


4IO  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ent  time  can  allow,  without  running  any  risk  whatsoever, 
while  half  of  humanity  is  weeping,  starving,  bleeding,  or 
dying.  And  just  because  one  fine  day  you  happen  to  be 
in  an  ill-humor — perhaps  you  know  why — you  want  to 
fight  a  poor  boy  who  has  survived  almost  by  a  miracle, 
and  who  is  sick  and  weak  from  having  done  what  you 
and  I  are  not  capable  of  doing.  You  ask  me  to  represent 
you  in  such  a  piece  of  business?" 

"He  insulted  me — he  tried  to  strike  me.  I  caught  his 
hand  close  to  my  face,"  said  the  Prince  in  a  low  but  ran- 
corous voice  from  the  depths  of  his  chair. 

This  caused  Castro  to  hesitate  for  a  moment,  as  he 
had  no  idea  of  the  importance  of  the  clash  between  the 
two  men.     But  his  hesitation  was  brief, 

"There  is  something  that  I  don't  understand  and  that 
you  are  keeping  silent.  The  very  seriousness  of  the  in- 
sult indicates  that  there  was  something  extraordinary  on 
your  part.  For  that  poor,  respectful,  and  timid  boy  to 
dare  to  strike,  and  strike  a  man  like  you !  .  .  .  What  did 
you  do  to  rouse  him  to  such  a  pitch  ?" 

Lubimoff  did  not  deign  to  reply.  Without  abandoning 
his  frowning  reserve  he  asked  briefly: 

"Well,  are  you  going  to,  or  are  you  not  ?" 

Castro,  irritated  by  this  attitude,  replied  without  hesi- 
tating : 

"It's  all  nonsense,  and  I  refuse." 

LubimofT  still  remained  motionless  at  this  refusal,  but 
Atilio  was  sure  he  guessed  the  Prince's  thoughts  in  the 
hostile  look  fixed  on  him.  He  was  accusing  him  of  in- 
gratitude. At  the  same  time  he  was  holding  the  "Gen- 
eral" responsible:  believing  that  the  latter  must  have 
influenced  his  decision.  That  Lieutenant  was  so  greatly 
admired  by  Doiia  Clorinda! 

As  though  replying  to  these  unexpressed  ideas,  Atilio 
went  on: 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  411 

"Do  you  think  I  am  interested  in  that  boy  you  are  bent 
on  fighting  ?  He  is  quite  indifferent  to  me ;  I  even  dislike 
him,  because  of  the  great  extremes  to  which  certain  wom- 
en go  in  their  admiration  of  his  heroism.  That  is  always 
annoying  to  those  who  are  not  heroes.  I  think  how  insig- 
nificant he  must  have  been  only  four  years  ago.  HI  had 
met  him  then,  I  would  have  found  him,  I  dare  say,  a 
book-keeper  in  some  hotel,  or  a  clerk  in  my  haberdasher's 
in  Paris.  Imagine  what  a  friend !  But  the  war  has  swept 
over  us,  turning  everything  upside  down,  making  some 
emerge,  and  burying  others  in  the  deepest  depths,  with- 
out any  certainty  of  rising  again.  This  boy  happens  to 
be  somebody  now.  He  is  of  more  consequence  than  you 
or  I.  He  has  been  of  some  use ;  and  for  me  he  is  sacred, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  inspires  envy  in  me  rather 
than  admiration." 

The  Prince  finally  made  a  gesture  of  protest.  Then  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainfully,  and  sank  once  more 
into  motionless  silence.  That  little  adventurer  worth 
more  than  he,  because  they  had  punctured  his  skin  in  a 
fight  or  two! 

"We  would  never  come  to  an  understanding,  even  if 
we  talked  all  the  afternoon,"  continued  Castro.  "I  have 
changed  considerably,  and  you  are  the  same  man  you 
have  always  been.  I  believe  that  yesterday  I  came  to 
my  'road  to  Damascus.'  I  feel  to-day  that  I  am  a  differ- 
ent man." 

And,  through  a  certain  need  of  expressing  his  great 
inner  turmoil,  he  went  on  talking,  without  paying  any  at- 
tention to  whether  or  not  the  Prince  was  listening  to  him. 

He  had  come  to  his  "road  of  Damascus"  near  the 
Monte  Carlo  railway  station,  beside  the  tracks.  He  was 
with  two  ladies,  in  one  of  whom  he  was  greatly  inter- 
ested. (Michael  thought  once  more  of  Dona  Clorinda.) 
A  trainload  of  soldiers  was  returning  from  Italy;  a  som- 


412  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ber  train,  without  flags  and  without  any  branches  of  trees 
adorning  the  doors  and  windows.  They  were  French- 
men. They  had  been  sent  to  Italy  as  reenforcements, 
after  the  disaster  of  Caporetto,  and  now  they  were  be- 
ing hurriedly  recalled,  to  defend  their  own  soil,  which 
was  again  in  danger. 

"No  songs  and  no  wild  merriment ;  they  were  all  silent, 
tired  and  dirty,  with  an  epic  dirtiness.  The  cars  were 
more  like  wild  beasts'  cages,  with  their  pungent  odors  of 
the  animal  ring.  The  soldiers  were  young  men  but  they 
looked  old,  with  their  bristling  beards,  spotted  uniforms, 
and  faces  parched  by  the  sun,  hardened  by  the  cold,  and 
cracked  and  chapped  by  the  wind.  The  heat  had  caused 
them  to  remove  their  blouses,  and  they  were  in  flannel 
shirts  of  an  undefinable  color,  drenched  with  the  sweat 
of  so  many  fatigues  and  so  many  emotions. 

"One  could  guess  that  they  were  the  battalion  always 
predestined  to  arrive  in  time  to  sustain  the  hardest 
shocks ;  the  one  that  punctually  appeared  in  the  places 
of  greatest  danger,  with  the  heroic  resignation  of  the 
strong,  who  allow  themselves  to  be  exploited,  and  who 
not  only  do  their  own  work,  but  help  out  all  the  others 
who  work  less.  Where  had  these  men  not  fought?  On 
their  own  soil,  and  on  that  of  the  Allies,  and  perhaps  in 
the  Orient,  and  now,  they  were  returning  again  to  the 
land  of  their  first  combats.  Just  when  they  were  think- 
ing they  had  accomplished  everything,  they  had  discov- 
ered they  had  as  yet  done  nothing.  In  the  weaving  and 
unweaving  of  the  web  of  war,  it  was  necessary  to  begin 
all  over  again.  Four  years  before,  they  imagined  they 
had  triumphed  decisively  on  the  banks  of  the  Marne,  and 
now  they  were  returning  once  more  to  the  Marne.  Every 
winter,  sunk  in  the  mud,  buried  in  the  trenches,  under 
the  rain,  they  said  to  one  another :  'This  will  be  the  last' 
And  another  winter  came,  and  another,  and  still  another 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  413 

on  the  heels  of  the  last,  without  any  noticeable  change. 
This  was  the  reason  for  their  fatalistic  and  resigned  de- 
meanor, the  look  of  men  who  adapt  themselves  to  every- 
thing and  finally  come  to  believe  that  their  misery  will 
be  eternal,  that  human  times  of  peace  will  never  return." 

Castro  stopped  talking  a  moment  and  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  face  of  his  friend,  which  seemed  to  be  asking 
what  all  that  story  had  to  do  with  him.  "We  were  stand- 
ing on  the  edge  of  an  embankment,  leaning  on  the  bar- 
riers, and  our  heads  were  on  a  level  with  the  men  hud- 
dled in  the  carriages.  The  long  train,  the  head  of  which 
had  already  reached  the  station,  was  slowly  advancing. 
The  two  ladies  were  waving  their  handkerchiefs,  smiling 
at  the  soldiers,  and  calling  words  of  greeting  to  them. 
Many  of  the  latter  remained  unmoved,  looking  at  them 
with  eyes  of  sleepy  wild  beasts.  They  had  been  greeted 
with  ovations  for  four  years.  They  knew  realities,  the 
terrible  realities  that  lie  beyond  ovations  !  Others,  young 
or  more  ardent,  aroused  themselves  at  the  sight  of  these 
two  elegant  women.  Electrified  by  their  smiles,  they 
stood  erect,  passing  a  hand  over  their  wrinkled  flannels, 
and  threw  kisses,  trying  to  recover  their  gentleness  of  the 
days  when  they  were  not  soldiers.  Suddenly,  one  of 
those  who  were  passing,  forgot  the  women  and  noticed 
me,  also  waving  my  hat  to  them,  and  shouting  hurrah. 
He  was  a  sort  of  red-haired,  bitter  devil." 

Castro  could  still  see  him,  as  though  his  head  were 
peering  through  one  of  the  bar-room  windows;  perhaps 
he  would  be  able  to  see,  as  long  as  he  lived,  the  whitish 
parchment  of  the  man's  face,  drawn  across  his  promi- 
nent cheek-bones;  his  red  beard  hanging  from  his  jaws, 
as  though  it  were  a  piece  of  make-up,  and  above  all,  his 
insolent,  sarcastic  eyes,  a  muddy  green  color,  like  that  of 
oysters.  He  was  the  soldier  who  criticizes,  grumbles,  and 
talks  against  the  officers,  while  carrying  out  their  orders. 


414  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

In  civil  life  he  must  have  been  the  disagreeable  rebel  who 
never  approves  of  anything.  As  his  eyes  met  those  of 
Castro,  the  latter  had  a  feeling  of  repulsion.  He  divined 
the  man  with  whom  one  always  clashes  in  the  street,  in 
the  cars,  and  in  the  theater.  And  nevertheless,  he  would 
never  forget  his  momentary  meeting  with  that  soldier 
who  was  passing  and  was  disappearing  in  the  distance, 
with  only  just  enough  time  to  say  six  words. 

He  gave  the  two  women  a  scornful,  ironic  smile — then 
another  at  Castro,  who  was  still  waving  his  hat,  and 
pointed  to  the  end  of  the  carriage,  shouting  to  him: 

"There's  still  room  for  one  more !" 

And  that  was  all  he  said. 

"He  said  enough,  Michael.  Since  then  I  keep  hear- 
ing his  harsh  voice:  I  shall  always  hear  it,  in  my  hap- 
piest moments,  if  I  remain  here.  And  the  look  in  his 
eyes?  I  understood  all  the  mute  insults,  the  rapid  com- 
parisons that  he  made  between  his  misery  and  my  strong, 
well-groomed  appearance.  For  him  I  was  a  coward  gal- 
livanting with  women,  when  men  are  with  men,  giving 
their  lives  for  something  of  importance." 

"Bah !  You  are  a  foreigner,"  interrupted  the  Prince, 
who  seemed  wearied  by  his  friend's  words. 

"I  live  here ;  and  the  land  where  I  live  cannot  be  for- 
eign to  me.  This  war  is  for  something  more  than  ques- 
tions of  land;  it  concerns  all  men.  Look  at  the  Ameri- 
cans, whom  we  all  considered  very  practical  and  incapable 
of  idealism ;  they  know  that  they  are  not  going  to  gain 
anything  positive ;  and  nevertheless  they  are  entering  the 
struggle  with  all  their  might.  Besides,  there  is  the  spirit 
of  the  women.  Would  you  imagine  that  the  two  that 
were  with  me  laughed  at  the  red-headed  fellow's  insult, 
considering  it  very  apropos?  And  don't  tell  me  that 
women  are  always  attracted  by  the  warrior,  on  every 
occasion.     Perhaps  by  the  warrior  in  peace  times,  shiny 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  415 

and  beplumed.  But  these  fellows  now  look  so  miserable ! 
No ;  there  is  something  very  lofty  in  everything  that  sur- 
rounds us,  something  that  you  and  I  have  not  been  able 
to  see,  because  of  our  selfishness." 

His  listener  once  more  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a 
gesture  of  indifference. 

"And  when  I  think  of  my  meeting  yesterday,  as  I  con- 
stantly am  doing,  and  see  the  place  that  that  damned  red- 
head offered  me  jokingly,  as  though  I  were  a  woman, 
and  as  though  I  would  never  have  the  courage  to  take  it, 
you  propose  that  I  arrange  for  a  deadly  combat  with 
another  of  these  men  who  consider  themselves,  not  with- 
out reason,  superior  to  us !  No ;  now  you  know  my 
answer :  I  won't  accept." 

He  had  left  the  arm  of  the  chair  and  was  standing,  fac- 
ing the  Prince.  The  latter  made  a  gesture  of  weariness. 
He  was  bored  by  Atilio's  words,  by  that  childlike  story 
about  the  train,  the  red-haired  soldier  and  his  insolent 
invitation.  That  might  move  Dona  Clorinda,  but  no- 
body else;  he  had  more  important  things  to  think  about 
just  then.  And  since  he  refused  to  do  him  the  favor, 
he  could  leave  him  alone. 

"Good-by,  Michael!"  said  Castro,  with  the  convic- 
tion that  this  farewell  was  going  to  be  something  more 
than  a  momentary  parting. 

"Good-by,"  replied  the   Prince,  without  stirring. 

When  he  had  almost  reached  the  door,  Atilio  turned 
back. 

"I  know  what  my  refusal  means,  and  what  it  is  up  to 
me  to  do.  Good-by  again.  Remember  that  if  you  were 
to  ask  me  anything  else  .  .  ." 

But  the  Prince  interrupted  his  words  with  another  ges- 
ture of  indifference,  and  Atilio  went  away,  hiding  his 
emotion. 

Immediately  Don  Marcos  entered  the  bar,  as  though 


4i6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

he  had  been  waiting  on  the  other  side  of  the  curtain  for 
Castro  to  come  out.  His  "chamberlain"  had  never 
seemed  to  the  Prince  so  active  and  intelligent. 

"It  is  all  arranged,  Marquis." 

As  he  had  felt  certain  that  Atilio  would  not  allow  him- 
self to  be  persuaded,  he  had  gone  in  search  of  another 
second.  He  thought  for  a  moment  of  going  to  Monaco, 
to  speak  to  Novoa.  Then  he  remembered  the  profes- 
sor's relations  with  Valeria.  Such  a  visit  would  be  equiv- 
alent to  informing  the  Duchess  of  the  entire  affair.  Be- 
sides, the  scientist  did  not  know  anything  about  such  mat- 
ters, and  was  a  fellow  countryman  of  Martinez.  It  was 
quite  enough  that  one  Spaniard  should  figure  in  this 
affair. 

"I  have  my  second,"  he  continued.  "It  will  be  Lord 
Lewis." 

In  the  Colonel's  eyes,  Lewis  was  more  of  a  Lord  than 
ever.  He  was  thankful  for  the  promptness  with  which 
he  had  granted  his  request.  The  Englishman  was  win- 
ning money  that  afternoon,  and  was  in  an  excellent  hu- 
mor. He  even  got  up  from  his  seat,  leaving  the  gambling, 
to  listen  to  the  Colonel.  He  wanted  to  take  him  over  to 
the  bar,  affirming  that  with  a  whiskey  in  front  of  a  fellow 
he  can  talk  better;  and  Toledo  guessed  from  his  breath 
that  he  had  already  taken  several  drinks  to  celebrate  his 
good  luck.  Lewis  was  disposed  to  serve  his  friend  Lu- 
bimoff.  As  far  as  fights  were  concerned,  he  was  ac- 
quainted only  with  boxing;  but  he  had  absolute  confi- 
dence in  the  Colonel's  expert  opinion  and  would  support 
anything  he  might  say.  Immediately  afterwards  he  had 
returned  to  his  play. 

Michael  gave  Toledo  his  instructions.  It  would  be  an 
encounter  under  rigorous  conditions,  like  those  which 
he  had  witnessed  in  Russia.  It  could  be  nothing  else: 
he  had  received  a  blow.    And  he  said  this  with  a  sullen 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  417 

voice,  quite  convinced  of  the  absolute  reality  of  the  in- 
sult. • 

As  night  fell,  he  left  the  Casino,  avoiding  his  acquain- 
tances who  were  invading  the  bar,  and  obliging  him  to 
smile  and  keep  up  frivolous  conversation,  while  his 
thoughts  were  far  away. 

In  all  his  moments  of  profound  anger,  when  unable  to 
put  his  feelings  into  immediate  and  violent  action,  his 
nervous  excitation  was  followed  by  a  certain  lassitude 
which  caused  his  muscles  and  nerves  to  relax. 

It  was  with  a  real  pleasure  that  he  entered  Villa  Si- 
rena,  finding  an  unwonted  voluptuousness  in  all  the  de- 
tails of  its  comforts.  He  spent  the  time  he  was  waiting 
for  the  Colonel  in  reading.  At  nine  o'clock  he  was 
obliged  to  eat  alone.  Then  he  returned  to  his  book,  but 
this  time  in  his  bedroom,  finally  lying  down,  book  in 
hand.  He  smiled  with  a  smile  that  was  almost  a  grim- 
ace, as  he  thought  that  his  nervous  fatigue  had  caused 
him  to  stretch  out  in  the  same  posture  as  the  dead. 

He  went  on  turning  the  pages  without  losing  a  single 
line,  and  nevertheless  he  could  not  have  told  what  he  was 
reading.  Suddenly,  he  concentrated  his  attention  in  an 
effort  to  remember.  Something  had  happened;  some- 
thing was  awaiting  him.  What  was  it  ?  "Oh,  yes !" 
And  after  reconstructing  in  his  memory  what  had  taken 
place  that  afternoon,  and  imagining  what  was  to  take 
place  the  following  day,  he  returned  to  his  meaningless 
reading. 

The  pages  melted  away  like  snowflakes;  he  felt  his 
hand  grow  lighter;  the  book  finally  fell  on  the  bed.  In- 
stinctively he  sought  the  electric  button  to  darken  the 
room,  and  before  completely  losing  all  perception  of  the 
outer  world,  he  could  hear  his  own  first  regular  breathing. 

A  light  striking  against  his  eyes  made  him  sit  up.  He 
saw  the  Colonel  beside  his  bed.    The  deep  silence  of  the 


4i8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

night,  which  seemed  even  more  absolute  when  empha- 
sized by  the  sound. of  the  sea,  was  broken  off  by  the  pant- 
ing of  a  motor-car. 

The  Prince  rubbed  his  eyes.     What  time  was  it? 

"One  o'clock,"  said  Don  Marcos. 

Everything  was  arranged.  The  meeting  was  to  take 
place  on  the  following  day,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. It  could  not  be  managed  earlier !  There  were  still 
a  great  many  things  left  to  be  done.  The  place  selected 
was  Lewis'  castle;  an  encounter  in  the  principality  of 
Monaco  would  be  impossible.  All  the  houses  there  were 
close  together,  without  a  single  quiet  spot  where  two  men 
might  face  each  other,  pistol  in  hand. 

Lubimoff  almost  jumped  out  of  bed,  so  great  was  his 
surprise.  The  choice  of  arms  was  his,  as  the  injured 
person,  and  he  had  mentioned  to  his  representative  the 
saber,  the  favorite  weapon  of  his  youthful  duels.  To- 
ledo, for  the  first  time  faced  the  furious  look  of  his 
Prince  without  a  tremor. 

"Marquis,"  he  said  with  dignity.  "It  could  not  be 
anything  else !  You  must  remember  that  this  poor  young 
man  is  a  convalescent,  almost  an  invalid.  I  am  aston- 
ished that  he  should  have  persuaded  his  seconds  to  allow 
even  pistols.  His  representatives  did  not  want  to  accept 
anything.  They  are  among  those  who  feel  that  this  duel 
ought  not  to  take  place." 

The  Prince  calmed  himself.  A  sense  of  equity  caused 
him  to  accept  Toledo's  decision.  That  sick  fellow  was 
not  an  enemy  worthy  of  his  saber;  it  was  necessary  to 
establish  a  certain  equality  between  them,  and  the  pistol 
would  do  that,  being  the  only  weapon  that  lends  itself  to 
surprises  and  whims  of  chance. 

"At  any  event  I  shall  kill  him,"  thought  Michael,  re- 
membering his  skill  as  a  marksman. 

"I  must  tell  your  Highness,"  the  Colonel  went  on,  "that 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  419 

all  weapons  are  the  same  to  him.  This  young  man  and 
his  two  friends  are  well  acquainted  with  everything  that 
concerns  warfare,  but  they  haven't  the  slightest  notion 
of  duelling  and  the  weapons  that  are  used  on  such 
occasions." 

Then  he  enumerated  the  conditions.  The  distance  was 
to  be  fifteen  meters;  each  one  was  to  fire  a  single  shot, 
but  each  might  aim  and  fire  while  he,  who  was  to  direct 
the  combat,  was  counting  from  one  to  three.  With  a 
marksman  like  the  Prince,  such  conditions  would  be 
serious. 

Exactly!     The  Prince  found  them  acceptable. 

"Good-night,"  he  said,  burying  himself  in  the  bed,  and 
pulling  the  coverlet  up  to  his  eyes. 

Once  more  sleep  overwhelmed  him,  now  that  his 
curiosity  was  satisfied. 

Toledo  would  have  liked  to  do  the  same,  but  he  was 
obliged  to  fulfill  the  sacred  duties  of  his  exalted  posi- 
tion, and  he  went  from  room  to  room  looking  through 
every  drawer  and  climbing  on  chairs  to  rummage  around 
on  the  top  shelves  of  the  closets.  He  was  looking  for 
a  box  of  duelling  pistols,  that  had  been  given  to  him  in 
Russia  by  one  of  the  Generals  who  was  a  friend  of  the 
dead  Marquis.  When  he  finally  found  it,  he  was  obliged 
to  spend  more  than  an  hour  in  cleaning  the  luxurious 
weapons,  which  had  lost  their  silvery  brilliancy  in  the 
oblivion  of  their  long  confinement. 

He  felt  tired,  yet  at  the  same  time  his  feeling  of  im- 
portance warded  off  sleep.  Was  he  not  the  soul  of  the 
drama  which  was  being  prepared  for  the  following  day, 
he  alone?  Without  him,  neither  his  Highness  nor  Mar- 
tinez could  fight.  Lord  Lewis  and  the  two  soldiers  who 
represented  the  adversary  were  incapable  of  a  single  idea, 
and  had  to  follow  him  as  though  they  were  his  pupils. 

Consciousness  of  this  superiority  caused  him  to  recall 


420  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

from  mid-afternoon  to  mid-night  all  his  past  negotia- 
tions and  triumphs. 

He  had  gone  in  quest  of  Martinez,  with  a  certain  hesi- 
tation. In  spite  of  his  old  beliefs,  he  felt  Atilio's  pro- 
tests were  quite  reasonable.  Perhaps  what  he  said  was 
right,  that  this  duel  was  a  piece  of  foolishness,  madness 
even,  on  the  part  of  the  Prince.  But  his  traditional  ideas 
revolted  against  such  scruples. 

"Honor  is  honor."  And,  hearing  the  Lieutenant  ac- 
cept reparation  by  arms,  with  joy,  and  with  a  certain 
haste,  as  though  he  were  afraid  that  Toledo  would  repent 
and  withdraw  the  proposal,  the  Colonel  felt  the  satisfac- 
tion of  a  person  who,  after  long  hesitation,  becomes  con- 
vinced that  he  is  in  the  right.  Heroic  youth,  ready  to 
maintain  all  points  of  honor!  Don  Marcos  found  it 
natural  that  he  should  act  thus.  Martinez  was  from  the 
same  land  as  himself ! 

For  a  moment  his  memory  dwelt  on  the  image  of  the 
Duchess.  Perhaps  she  was  the  involuntary  cause  of  this 
clash,  and  the  boy  was  animated  by  a  feeling  of  vanity. 
He  was  going  to  figure  in  a  duel  such  as  he  had  read 
about  in  the  story  books  of  his  youth;  he  was  going  to 
be  a  chief  actor  in  one  of  those  dreams  of  high  life  that 
seemed  to  him  to  belong  to  another  world.  But  the  Col- 
onel immediately  put  aside  such  speculations,  which  had 
been  suggested  by  the  frank  rejoicing  with  which  Mar- 
tinez accepted  the  challenge,  as  though  it  were  an  invita- 
tion to  a  party. 

From  that  moment  on  Toledo  began  to  be  more  and 
more  bewildered.  The  world  had  changed,  changed  com- 
pletely, and  he  advanced  from  amazement  to  amazement. 

To  favor  his  compatriot,  he  wanted  to  know  the  arms 
for  which  the  latter  had  a  preference. 

"I  am  acquainted  with  so  many !"  exclaimed  Martinez. 

In  an  attack  he  had  wounded  with  the  point  of  a  saber 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  421 

a  gigantic  German  who  was  threatening  him  with  his 
bayonet.  The  thrust  had  met  something  hard  that 
crunched,  and  spurted  a  shower  of  blood  into  his  face. 
Then,  on  growing  calm,  he  saw  that  he  had  driven  the 
weapon  through  his  adversary's  mouth,  breaking  his 
spinal  column.  He  was  also  acquainted  with  the  revol- 
ver, but  was  not  a  marksman.  He  was  more  expert  with 
other  weapons :  the  hand  grenade,  which  reminded  him 
of  youthful  ball  games ;  the  machine  gun,  which  he  had 
handled  as  a  mere  aid ;  explosive  hurled  with  a  sling.  He 
was  even  fairly  skilled  in  artillery,  but  trench  artillery, 
in  loading  short  range  mortars,  used  in  firing  torpedoes 
and  asphyxiating  projectiles  into  the  neighboring  trench  1 

He  smiled  scornfully  when  Don  Marcos  insisted  on  the 
fencing  formalities  to  be  employed  with  the  saber.  He 
had  his  own  style  of  fencing;  to  go  straight  up  to  the 
enemy  and  strike  first.  But  in  hand  to  hand  fighting  he 
preferred  the  knife.  With  a  revolver  he  had  never  both- 
ered about  aiming.  He  didn't  fire  until  he  found  himself 
close  to  the  enemy,  and  was  sure  of  his  shot. 

"And  the  duelling  pistol?"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"I  am  not  acquainted  with  it  at  all.  I  should  like  to 
see  one :  it  must  be  something  curious." 

Toledo's  hesitating  glance  wandered  over  the  officer's 
breast,  as  though  taking  an  inventory  of  his  decorations, 
pausing  at  the  stars  that  dotted  the  striped  ribbons  of  his 
War  Cross.    Each  one  of  them  symbolized  a  great  deed. 

When  the  Lieutenant  presented  his  seconds,  the  be- 
wilderment of  Don  Marcos  was  not  relieved.  They  were 
two  extremely  young  captains.  Toledo  guessed  they 
were  twenty-five  or  twenty-six  years  of  age.  Their  uni- 
forms fitting  very  tight  about  the  waist,  their  kepis  of  the 
latest  style,  their  neatness  and  elegance  pleased  the  Col- 
onel, who  immediately  took  them  to  be  professional  sol- 
diers.   They  must  have  come  from  the  school  of  Saint- 


422  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Cyr;  his  professional  eye  could  not  be  mistaken;  they 
were  of  a  different  stock  from  humble  Martinez ! 

One  of  them  had  had  his  face  burned  on  one  side  by 
German  liquid  fire:  the  other's  face  was  burrowed  with 
a  network  of  scarlet  threads,  which  were  the  remains  of 
scars.  They  both  limped;  one  of  them,  with  an  enorm- 
ous foot  covered  with  wrappings  and  shod  with  a  felt 
shoe,  was  quite  frankly  leaning  on  a  stick;  while  his 
companion,  who  had  a  stiff  leg,  wore  a  trim  tiny  shoe, 
displaying  a  certain  vanity  also  in  a  slender  rattan  cane, 
which  he  really  used  for  support. 

Their  first  words  were  rather  embarrassing  for  the 
Colonel  and  Lewis.  What  was  the  meaning  of  this,  a 
civilian  daring  to  insult  a  soldier  who  was  recovering 
from  his  wounds?  What  was  the  idea  in  proposing  a 
duel  in  the  midst  of  war?  Any  one  who  wanted  to  die 
himself  or  kill  someone  else  had  only  to  go  to  the  front, 
like  the  rest.  But  Martinez,  who  was  still  present,  inter- 
vened, entering  into  a  rapid  discussion  with  them.  Did 
they  want  to  do  him  this  favor  he  had  asked  them  as 
comrades,  or  not?  Yes,  but  they  were  giving  their  own 
opinion  of  the  matter.  In  their  judgment  the  logical 
thing  would  have  been  to  put  an  end  to  the  quarrel  right 
there  on  the  Casino  steps :  two  good  punches  at  that 
slacker  who  wasn't  going  to  war  and  took  the  liberty  of 
annoying  those  who  were  doing  their  duty !  They  talked 
like  men  thoroughly  aware  of  the  fragility  of  life,  like 
men  who  know  how  easy  it  is  to  take  another  man's  life, 
or  to  lose  one's.  They  laughed  instinctively  at  the  im- 
portance, the  ceremonies  and  the  so-called  "equities"  with 
which  in  peace  times  a  private  encounter  is  surrounded. 
But  in  the  end,  since  their  comrade  insisted  on  their  rep- 
resenting him  in  this  farce,  they  would  do  it  to  please 
him,  even  though  their  compliance  might  get  them  into 
the  guard  house. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  423 

Scarcely  had  Martinez  withdrawn,  when  one  of  the 
Captains,  the  one  with  the  elephantine  foot  in  a  felt  shoe, 
confessed  his  lack  of  competence  in  such  matters. 

"I  never  saw  a  duel  in  Bordeaux.  I  have  no  idea  what 
it's  like.  Before  the  war  I  was  a  traveling  salesman  in 
Mexico.  Wine  was  my  line.  I  sailed  with  all  the 
Frenchmen  who  were  living  there,  and  by  a  miracle  we 
were  not  captured  by  a  Boche  pirate.  I  started  in  as  a 
second  class  private;  but  I  did  what  I  could.  If  it  were 
a  business  matter  I  would  give  my  opinion,  but  in  a  thing 
like  this !  .  .  .  Perhaps  my  comrade  here."  Another 
Martinez !  Don  Marcos  forgot  the  Captain  with  the  felt 
shoe.  He  was  the  Lewis  of  the  opposite  side.  He  con- 
centrated all  his  attention  on  the  Captain  with  the  shiny 
boots  and  the  toy  cane.  The  latter  must  be  an  adversary 
worthy  of  him.  It  was  a  shame  that  his  clear  eyes 
should  have  the  ironical  expression  of  a  man  who  makes 
a  joke  of  everything,  and  that  under  his  red  mustache, 
trimmed  short,  in  the  English  fashion,  there  should  flit  a 
faint  look  of  insolence ! 

He  was  born  in  Paris,  as  he  proudly  declared  as  soon 
as  he  started  to  speak;  and  when  Don  Marcos  slyly 
sounded  him  to  find  out  whether  or  not  he  was  an  expert 
in  affairs  of  honor  and  had  witnessed  many  duels,  he  said 
in  a  simple  way: 

"More  than  a  hundred." 

Toledo  had  not  been  mistaken.  This  was  the  man  with 
whom  he  would  have  the  struggle.  Then  he  thought  of 
the  number,  and  compared  it  with  the  Captain's  age. 
More  than  a  hundred,  and  surely  he  was  not  over  twenty- 
six  !  He  had  a  presentiment  that  he  was  going  to  be  up 
against  some  famous  swordsman,  whose  glorious  name 
has  been  momentarily  obscured  by  the  war. 

The  Captain  and  the  Colonel  were  the  only  ones  to  do 
any  talking.     In  the  beginning  the  Captain  had  had  an 


424  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

air  of  jesting,  with  a  Parisian  sense  of  humor,  at  the 
solemn,  high-sounding  terms  in  which  Don  Marcos 
treated  questions  of  honor.  But  the  Colonel's  reserved 
and  persistent  grandiloquence  finally  got  the  better  of  the 
other's  inclination  to  banter.  The  young  Captain  took 
the  same  tone  as  the  Colonel,  finally  interested  in  the  af- 
fair and  recognizing  its  importance. 

At  certain  moments,  the  Colonel  felt  doubtful  on  lis- 
tening to  the  way  in  which  his  rival  formulated  amaz- 
ing heresies,  revealing  absolute  ignorance  of  the  great 
authorities  who  have  codified  the  laws  of  encounters  be- 
tween gentlemen.  And  this  man  had  been  present  at 
more  than  a  hundred  duels !  Later,  Don  Marcos  was 
amazed  at  the  promptness  with  which  the  texts  he  had 
cited  himself  were  appropriated  by  the  young  man;  at 
the  ease  with  which  his  classics  had  been  assimilated, 
somewhat  inverted  in  meaning,  to  be  sure,  the  better  to 
sustain  affirmations  contrary  to  his  own. 

When  the  encounter  was  arranged  for  in  its  slightest 
details,  the  Captain  summed  up  his  impressions  with  a 
simplicity  that  made  the  blood  of  Don  Marcos  run  cold. 

"One  or  both  perhaps  will  be  wounded.  There  is 
nothing  extraordinary  about  that.  Who  isn't  wounded 
these  days  ?  Surgery  has  made  great  progress ;  it  is  quite 
different  from  what  it  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  war. 
If  a  man  doesn't  die  on  the  spot,  he  is  nearly  always 
saved.  Besides,  they  will  put  them  to  bed  and  they  won't 
remain  abandoned  on  the  field  for  days  and  days,  as  hap- 
pens in  war." 

But  the  placid  expression  with  which  he  talked  about 
wounds  was  clouded  over,  giving  way  to  a  grim  look. 

"I  am  assuming,  of  course,"  he  continued,  "that  no  one 
is  killed.  Because  if,  for  example,  my  comrade,  Mar- 
tinez, who  is  as  gentle  as  a  lamb  and  of  whom  I  am  very 
fond,  should  die  in  this  farce,  I'll  kill  your  Prince  on  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  425 

spot,  without  any  rules  whatsoever,  the  way  we  kill  a 
Boche  at  the  front." 

The  tone  in  which  he  said  these  words  was  so  sincere, 
that  the  Colonel,  deeply  impressed  by  them,  did  not  ob- 
serve how  strange  they  sounded  in  the  mouth  of  an  ex- 
pert in  the  laws  of  honor. 

The  conversation  became  more  intimate  and  cordial  as 
always  happens  when  a  difficult  matter  has  been  settled. 
Toledo  was  obliged  to  tell  them  about  his  life  as  a  sol- 
dier— at  least  the  way  he  imagined  it  had  been,  after 
so  many  years — and  both  young  men,  who  had  witnessed 
the  combats  of  millions  of  men,  showed  the  same  interest 
as  children  listening  to  a  strange  tale,  as  he  related  ob- 
scure encounters  in  the  mountains,  battles  that  did  not 
even  have  a  name  and  were  remembered  only  in  an  exag- 
gerated fashion  by  Don  Marcos  himself. 

The  Parisian  Captain,  elegant  and  charming,  also 
talked  about  his  past. 

"As  for  me,  before  the  war,  I  worked  in  the  Box  Office 
of  the  theaters  on  the  Boulevard.  I  haven't  any  other 
position." 

Don  Marcos  had  to  make  an  effort  to  conceal  his  sur- 
prise. Indeed,  he  had  seen  more  than  a  hundred  duels ; 
but  in  plays  on  the  stage,  between  actors,  who  draw  out 
the  preliminaries  of  the  encounters  with  ceremonious  de- 
liberation, in  order  to  prolong  the  suspense  of  the  audi- 
ence. He  should  have  guessed  it  on  hearing  his  non- 
sense !    What  a  fool  that  boy  had  made  of  him ! 

But  immediately  his  eyes  fell  on  the  coats  of  the  two 
young  men.  The  same  as  Martinez:  The  Legion  of 
Honor,  the  Military  Medal  and  the  War  Cross,  with 
stars.  That  of  the  former  ticket  seller  was  even  crossed 
by  a  golden  palm. 

Ah,  indeed!  The  world  had  changed.  Where  were 
the  days  of  Don  Marcos  ?    Then  he  thought  of  all  he  had 


426  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

done  in  his  life  to  increase  his  own  self  esteem ;  by  ap- 
pearing in  full  ceremony  at  various  duels  where  most 
often  no  blood  was  shed.  He  also  thought  of  what  these 
young  men  had  done  and  seen  in  less  than  four  years. 
Their  obscure  origin  brought  to  his  memory  the  various 
warriors  of  Napoleon,  whose  names  were  celebrated  and 
whose  origin  had  been  even  worse.  Some  of  them  had 
succeeded  in  becoming  kings,  while  these  poor  Captains 
once  the  war  was  over,  would  have  to  return,  laden  with 
glory,  to  their  former  occupations,  struggling  day  by  day 
to  earn  their  bread ! 

They  separated,  agreeing  to  meet  after  dinner,  to  sign 
the  paper  stating  the  conditions  of  the  encounter.  They 
were  all  four  in  accord,  but  on  mentioning  this  number, 
Toledo  noticed  that  there  were  only  three.  Lewis  had 
witnessed  the  long  preliminaries  with  a  certain  impa- 
tience, seated  on  a  divan  in  the  ante-room  of  the  Casino. 

"There's  a  friend  waiting  for  me.  I'll  be  back  in  a 
moment." 

And  he  had  entered  the  gambling  rooms,  which  were 
forbidden  to  the  officers. 

The  Colonel  had  no  illusions  as  to  the  duration  of  that 
moment,  about  two  hours  having  passed.  After  leaving 
the  Captains,  he  found  Lewis  at  a  trente  et  quarante 
table,  with  a  heap  of  thousand  franc  chips  in  front  of 
him.  Of  course  he  did  not  understand  what  Toledo 
whispered  in  his  ear.  He  had  to  make  an  effort  to  re- 
call. 

"Oh,  yes,  the  matter  of  the  duel !  I  have  every  confi- 
dence in  you ;  do  whatever  you  please,  I  shall  sign  what 
you  give  me,  but  I  am  not  going  to  get  up,  even  though 
they  might  tell  me  Lubimoff  was  dead.  What  a  day  this 
has  been,  my  friends !    If  they  were  all  like  this !" 

And  he  turned  his  back,  to  make  the  most  of  his  time, 
before  the  flight  of  luck  would  change. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  427 

Don  Marcos  had  dined  in  the  Cafe  de  Paris,  going  over 
in  his  mind  the  various  articles  he  should  put  in  the  duel- 
ing agreement.  The  consideration  that  they  were  all 
relying  on  his  superior  knowledge  caused  him  to  be  very 
exacting  with  himself.  He  wanted  something  concise  and 
brilliant  which  would  inspire  respect  in  those  boys,  who 
were  covered  with  glory.  And  he  spent  more  than  an 
hour,  with  the  dessert  dishes  in  front  of  him  on  the  table, 
scribbling  over  sheet  after  sheet  of  paper,  tearing  each 
one  up  and  beginning  all  over  again  on  another.  It  was 
futile  work :  both  signed  in  the  reading  room  of  the 
Casino,  hardly  giving  the  eloquent  text  a  glance.  As  for 
Lewis  he  was  obliged  to  get  him  out  of  the  private  gam- 
bling rooms  by  every  sort  of  trick,  and  entreaty.  The 
Englishman  had  forgotten  to  dine,  in  order  not  to  offend 
Madame  Fortune  by  his  absence,  and  that  stubborn  Col- 
onel came  and  disturbed  him  with  his  damned  affair  of 
the  duel ! 

He  signed  the  document  without  looking  at  it ;  he  gave 
his  word  to  the  officers  that  he  would  come  and  get  them 
in  an  automobile  to  take  them  to  his  castle.  Then  he  ran 
away  immediately,  not  without  first  saying  to  Don  Mar- 
cos in  a  gruff  tone : 

"Until  four  o'clock,  no  later!  If  it  isn't  all  over  at 
four,  I'll  let  them  kill  each  other  alone  and  come  back 
here.  That's  the  hour  that  the  fine  deals  commence.  To- 
day's luck  is  going  to  continue." 

And  he  fled,  smiling  with  pity  on  people  who  were  oc- 
cupied with  less  important  things. 

On  finding  himself  alone,  the  Colonel  began  to  make 
preparations  for  the  encounter.  He  needed  a  doctor.  He 
would  go  next  morning  and  find  an  old  physician  in 
Monte  Carlo  who  visited  the  Prince  from  time  to  time. 
He  needed  powder  and  balls ;  he  proposed  to  go  in  quest 


428  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

of  them  to-morrow  also.  He  needed  two  cases  of  pis- 
tols, and  he  had  only  one ! 

The  matter  of  the  two  cases  he  considered  essential. 
The  other  man's  seconds  did  not  know  where  to  get 
theirs.  No  matter;  he  would  find  them  one.  The  indis- 
pensable thing  was  that  there  should  be  two,  so  that  fate 
might  decide  which  they  should  use.  Without  that,  the 
conditions  would  not  be  equal.  And  he  spent  the  time 
until  about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  asking  hotel  em- 
ployees, rousing  people  out  of  bed,  going  down  to  the 
rooms  of  the  Sporting  Club,  until  an  American  whom  he 
knew  gave  him  a  note  for  a  certain  fellow-countryman, 
a  gloomy,  half  crazy  fellow,  who  lived  in  an  isolated  villa 
on  Cap-Ferrat.  He  thought  he  would  conclude  this  ne- 
gotiation the  following  day;  and  to  do  so  he  had  rented 
an  automobile. 

Owing  to  the  lack  of  vehicles  and  gas,  the  cost  of  the 
car  was  enormous ;  but  it  was  necessary  owing  to  the  im- 
portance of  his  functions. 

But  now  he  was  in  Villa  Sirena,  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  slowly  cleaning  the  pistols,  as  though  they  were 
fragile  jewels. 

In  the  silence  of  his  bedroom,  far  from  mankind,  in- 
fluenced by  the  lonely  mystery  of  the  small  hours  of  the 
night,  which  puts  a  certain  vagueness  in  things  and  ideas, 
he  felt  an  enormous  self-aggrandizement.  No ;  his  world 
had  not  changed  as  much  as  he  thought.  The  proof  was 
that  he  was  there,  cleaning  weapons  for  a  duel! 

On  waking  up  the  next  morning,  the  Prince  could  not 
find  his  "chamberlain".  The  rented  auto  had  carried  him 
off  at  seven  o'clock,  to  complete  his  preparations. 

Lubimoff  wandered  about  the  gardens,  stopping  in 
front  of  the  cages,  which  sheltered  various  exotic  birds- 
Then  with  an  absent-minded  look,  he  followed  the  evolu- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  429 

tions  of  various  peacocks,  spreading  their  tails,  colored 
blue  and  golden,  or  a  royal  black,  in  the  sunlight. 

His  old  valet  interrupted  his  promenade.  Some  men 
had  come  with  a  truck  to  get  Senor  Castro's  baggage. 

Michael  showed  no  surprise;  they  might  hand  over 
everything  to  them  that  belonged  to  Don  Atilio.  But  the 
servant  added  that  the  same  men  also  wanted  to  take 
away  the  little  that  belonged  to  Senor  Spadoni,  news 
which  amazed  the  Prince.  He,  too!  What  reason  had 
Spadoni  to  desert  him? 

He  glanced  at  the  brief  note  written  to  the  Colonel 
and  signed  by  them  both.  In  his  flight,  Castro  was  taking 
with  him  the  dreamy  pianist. 

"All  right,"  he  thought;  "let  them  all  leave;  let  them 
leave  me  alone.  If  they  think  that  by  doing  so  they  are 
going  to  make  me  refrain  from  carrying  out  my  inten- 
tion! .    .    ." 

Then  he  resumed  his  walk. 

Only  a  few  hours  remained  before  he  would  find  him- 
self facing  that  young  man  whom  he  so  hated.  He  was 
going  coldly  to  do  away  with  him,  so  that  he  would  not 
continu'j  to  be  a  nuisance.  The  conditions  planned  by  the 
Colonel  were  sufficient  for  a  marksman  of  his  skill  to 
bring  down  his  adversary.    He  needed  only  a  single  shot. 

For  a  moment  he  thought  of  going  to  the  end  of  the 
gardens,  where  he  sometimes  passed  the  time  shooting. 
It  was  a  good  idea  that  he  should  practise  steadiness  of 
hand — the  pistol  is  full  of  surprises.  Then  he  decided 
not  to,  as  it  seemed  unworthy  that  he  should  add  these 
preparations  to  his  evident  superiority.  His  mediocre 
adversary  could  not  be  practising  at  that  time.  He  had 
no  facilities  for  doing  so  in  Monte  Carlo  where  he  had 
no  other  friends  than  his  convalescent  comrades  and  a 
few  ladies.  He,  on  the  other  hand !  ...  he  held  out  his 
muscular  arm,  keeping  it  rigid  for  a  few  seconds  with 


430  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

his  eye  glued  on  his  fist.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
tremor!  He  would  be  able  to  place  a  ball  wherever  he 
wanted.  Poor  Martinez  might  consider  himself  a  dead 
man.  And  not  the  slightest  sign  of  remorse  disturbed 
the  Prince's  infernal  pride  in  his  implacable  strength. 

His  consciousness  of  superiority  was  so  great  and  his 
certainty  in  the  result  so  absolute,  that  he  finally  began  to 
feel  some  doubt,  that  feeling  of  uneasiness  which  is  in- 
spired by  the  mystery  of  things  still  to  be  accomplished. 
Suddenly  there  came  crowding  into  his  memory  stories 
of  combats  in  which  the  weak  unexpectedly  triumphed 
over  the  strong,  through  an  obscure  mandate  of  inherent 
justice.  He  recalled  many  novels  in  which  the  reader 
draws  a  sigh  of  relief  on  seeing  that  the  hero,  modest  and 
agreeable,  placed  in  danger  of  death  by  the  "villain,"  who 
is  stronger  and  wickeder  than  he,  not  only  saves  his  own 
life,  but  in  addition  kills  his  adversary,  through  some 
happy  chance ;  all  of  which  goes  to  show  the  existence  of 
some  superior  and  just  power  which  on  most  occasions 
seems  asleep,  but  at  certain  moments  awakens,  giving 
each  person  what  he  deserves.  Since  the  time  of  David, 
the  little  barefoot  shepherd,  killing  with  a  stone  the  huge 
giant  clad  in  bronze,  humanity  has  enjoyed  such  stories. 

Pistols  are  capricious  weapons,  and  lend  themselves 
to  the  absurd  determinations  of  fate.  Might  he  not  fall, 
with  all  his  skill,  at  the  poor  Lieutenant's  first  shot  ? 

He  held  out  his  arm  again,  as  before,  looking  at  his 
clenched  first.  Then  he  smiled,  with  the  smile  of  his  an- 
cestors, which  gave  his  features  a  Mongolian  ugliness. 
Mere  traditional  fiction,  inventions  of  story  writers,  to 
flatter  the  public  in  a  sentimental  love  of  equality !  The 
strong  are  always  the  strong.  Within  a  few  hours  he 
would  sweep  that  nuisance  out  of  the  way,  calmly  and 
without  remorse,  the  way  superior  men  always  act. 

A  roaring  sound  coming  from  the  railway  line  drew 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  431 

him  from  his  thoughts.  It  was  a  trainload  of  soldiers 
approaching,  like  all  the  others,  with  an  ovation  of  shouts 
acclamations  and  whistling.  It  was  rolling  along  toward! 
Italy,  in  the  direction  opposite  to  that  of  the  numerous 
trains  corping  to  the  French  front.  The  Prince  walked 
over  to  a  garden  terrace,  the  stone  flower-covered  wall  of 
which  descended  to  the  track.  The  cars  seemed  to  pass 
of  their  own  will  before  his  eyes,  showing  him  one  side 
as  they  rounded  the  curve,  and  then  the  other  as  they 
reached  another  curve,  where  they  were  lost  to  view. 

The  uniform  of  these  combatants  puzzled  the  Prince 
for  a  moment,  as  an  unexpected  novelty.  They  were 
dressed  in  dark  blue  serge,  with  their  blouses  open  at 
the  neck,  and  sleeves  rolled  up.  On  their  heads  they 
wore  white  caps  with  the  brims  turned  up  all  around, 
like  the  little  paper  boats  that  children  make. 

He  finally  recognized  them :  they  were  sailors  from  the 
United  States,  a  battalion,  sailors  from  the  fleet,  going 
to  Italy  so  that  the  Stars  and  Stripes  might  represent  the 
huge  republic  on  the  icy  summits  of  the  Alps  and  on  the 
hot  marshy  plains  of  Venetia. 

With  the  rapidity  of  mental  visions,  which  reveal,  one 
superimposed  upon  the  other  but  nevertheless  distinct,  a 
great  number  of  diverse  images,  the  Prince  recalled  the 
harbors  of  North  America  which  he  had  visited  in  his 
youth,  aquatic  beehives,  gathering  together  all  the  work 
and  riches  of  the  earth;  monstrous,  interminable  cities, 
with  populations  as  large  as  nations,  and  in  which  liberty 
and  well-being  seemed  to  have  reached  their  highest 
limits.  .  .  ,  And  these  men  were  leaving  the  comforts 
of  a  scientifically  organized  existence,  their  productive 
business,  their  amply  remunerative  work,  their  immediate 
hopes  of  wealth,  perhaps  to  die  for  an  ideal  in  the  Old 
World,  merely  for  an  ideal,  since  they  were  not  seeking 
new  strips  of  land  nor  indemnities  for  their  country !  And 


k 


432  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

until  then,  the  average  person  had  considered  this  coun- 
try as  the  most  materialistic,  the  least  poetic  and  idealist 
of  all  nations,  calling  it  the  land  of  the  dollar !  ...  It 
was  true  that  unselfish  ideals  were  something  more  than 
words,  since  millions  of  men  were  coming  across  the  sea 
to  give  their  blood  for  them ! 

The  sailors,  after  passing  through  the  city  of  Monte 
Carlo,  where  they  were  greeted  with  cheers  and  waving 
flags,  were  entering  the  open  country,  where  their  shouts 
faded  away  with  no  answering  echoes.  For  this  reason 
their  attention  was  attracted  by  that  flowering  terrace 
and  the  man  appearing  above  it.  It  was  like  a  procession 
on  review :  the  carriages,  one  by  one,  came  to  life  as  they 
passed  the  Prince.  From  all  the  car  windows  arms  with 
sleeves  rolled  up  projected,  shaking  white  caps.  On  the 
car  roofs,  a  few  strapping  lads  were  gesticulating,  with 
arms  and  legs  extended,  while  the  wind  rippled  in  the 
folds  of  their  dark  trousers,  above  the  white  leggings. 
More  than  a  thousand  throats  greeted  the  solitary  man 
on  the  terrace  with  gay  whistling,  hurrahs,  or  unintelli- 
gible cries,  which  gave  vent  to  the  exuberant  feelings  of 
those  youths,  hungry  for  danger  and  glory,  full  of  joy 
and  curiosity,  as  they  passed  through  an  Old  World 
which  to  them  was  new. 

Lubimoff  remained  motionless,  with  his  elbows  on  the 
railing,  and  his  chin  in  one  hand,  as  though  he  did  not  see 
that  pent-up  river  of  men,  gliding  along  below  his  feet. 
The  gay  sailors,  as  they  passed,  turned  their  heads,  re- 
peating their  shouts  and  greetings,  as  though  anxious  to 
awaken  that  human  figure,  rigid  and  clinging  to  the  balus- 
trade as  though  forming  a  part  of  its  decoration. 

He  had  completely  forgotten  the  thoughts  and  worries 
of  a  moment  before.  All  he  saw  was  that  torrent  of 
young  men  rushing  to  meet  danger  and  death  for  certain 
ideals  as  simple  and  beautiful  as  their  blossoming  youth. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  433 

They  were  coming  from  the  other  side  of  the  earth  with 
that  naive  faith  that  accomplishes  the  great  miracles  of 
history;  and  in  the  meantime,  Prince  Lubimoff,  who,  by 
dint  of  seeking  after  superior  ideas  and  exquisite  sensa- 
tions, had  finally  come  to  believe  in  nothing,  was  there  at 
his  garden  rail,  calculating  the  surest  means  of  killing  a 
man,  a  man  who  was  useful,  like  those  who  were  passing. 

Castro's  image  arose  in  his  mind.  He,  too,  had  wit- 
nessed two  days  before,  the  passing  of  a  train.  He  re- 
called the  impression  so  deep  and  powerful  that  had  im- 
pelled him  to  leave  Villa  Sirena,  and  break  with  his  rela- 
tive. He  could  see,  just  as  it  had  been  described  to  him, 
the  bitter  look  of  that  red-headed  soldier  insulting  him 
with  scorn. 

"There's  room  here  for  one  more!" 

The  American  sailors  continued  their  whistling,  and 
their  exuberantly  youthful  shouting;  but  it  seemed  to  him 
that  these  voices  and  waving  of  hands  said  the  same  as 
the  other  man's  words,  inviting  him  with  ironical  polite- 
ness: "Come;  there's  a  place  here  for  you!"  A  little 
later,  and  the  voices  were  dumb,  but  he  could  still  hear 
them,  deep  in  his  soul,  like  the  far-off  booming  of  a  bell. 
He  had  considered  himself  a  brave  man,  who  as  a  matter 
of  distinction,  of  sophistication,  of  refined  indifference, 
preferred  to  keep  aloof  from  things  which  rouse  enthu- 
siasm in  other  mortals.  But  the  far-off  tolling  of  the  bell 
protested,  ringing  in  his  ear,  repeating  a  single  word: 
"Coward !     Coward !" 

He  walked  about  the  garden  in  a  pensive  mood  until 
Toledo  arrived  in  the  afternoon.  They  had  lunch  in  a 
hurry,  and  the  Colonel  made  several  recommendations. 
His  knowledge  of  dueling  matters,  which  has  as  many 
branches  as  the  tree  of  science,  touched  in  one  of  its 
ramifications  on  cooking.  The  Prince  should  not  take 
any  wine;  since  he  must  keep  his  hand  steady.     And 


434  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

as  the  Colonel  said  this  he  was  praying  inside  that  the 
bullets  would  all  go  astray,  since  both  contestants  inspired 
an  equal  interest  in  him.  Some  soft  boiled  eggs,  nothing 
more;  and  not  much  liquid.  At  the  last  moment  he 
should  remember  to  empty  his  bladder.  A  terrible  thing 
a  wound  with  internal  leakage !  Nothing  escaped  the 
Colonel — he  thought  of  everything. 

He  went  up  to  his  room  to  put  on  the  frock  coat  he 
wore  at  duels.  The  moment  for  officiating  had  arrived. 
He  remained  hesitating  in  front  of  the  mirror,  realizing 
the  lack  of  harmony  between  this  majestic  garment  and 
the  derby  that  topped  off  his  appearance.  Oh,  the  war! 
He  smiled  at  the  absurd  thought  of  presenting  himself 
thus  four  years  before — it  seemed  like  four  centuries — 
in  those  Paris  duels,  in  which  the  seconds  and  adversar- 
ies felt  that  it  was  only  decent  to  go  to  meet  death  with 
an  elegant,  shiny,  high  hat. 

Having  omitted  this  solemn  touch,  he  felt  that  he  might 
look  somewhat  ridiculous  sitting  in  the  automobile  beside 
the  Prince,  with  his  long  frock  coat  and  the  two  pistol 
cases  on  his  knees. 

The  carriage  stopped  in  the  Boulevard  des  Moulins,  in 
front  of  the  doctor's  house.  Wounded  soldiers  were 
passing,  some  with  fixed  stares,  tapping  the  pavement  in 
front  of  them  with  sticks,  others  tottering  along  out  of 
weakness  or  owing  to  an  amputation. 

A  woman's  voice,  smooth  and  sweet,  greeted  the 
Prince.  It  was  the  voice  of  an  extremely  slender  nurse, 
who  was  walking  arm  and  arm  with  two  blind  officers. 
Michael  and  Don  Marcos  recognized  Lewis*  niece.  She 
smiled  at  them,  showing  them  the  two  strapping  English- 
men whom  she  was  serving  as  a  guide;  two  fair-haired 
Apollos,  tanned  by  the  sun,  with  Roman  profiles,  shining 
teeth,  and  lithe  bodies,  strong  and  symmetrical,  but  with 
vacant  eyes — like  fires  that  have  gone  out — and  a  tragic 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  435 

expression  on  their  lips,  an  expression  of  despair  and 
protest  at  finding  themselves  dead  in  the  midst  of  life. 

"They  are  my  two  'crushes'.  How  do  you  like  them?" 
She  was  jesting  in  order  to  cheer  up  her  companions, 
with  that  joyousness  and  daring  of  a  Virgin  Dolorosa, 
passing  through  the  world  scattering  pale  rays  of  North- 
ern sunlight  in  the  ambulances  and  hospitals.  She 
seemed  to  be  made  entirely  of  the  same  stuff  as  the  sac- 
ramental Host,  fragile,  anaemic,  white  and  transparent, 
like  dim  crystal.  And  she  went  away,  guiding  like  chil- 
dren the  two  blind  men,  despairing  and  handsome,  whose 
heads  towered  above  her  own.  A  slight  pressure  of  their 
fingers  would  have  been  enough  to  crush  that  body,  like 
an  alabaster  lamp,  all  light,  of  no  more  substance  than 
was  necessary  to  guard  the  inner  flame  and  cause  it  to 
shine  through. 

"Good-by,  Lady  Lewis !"  said  the  Prince. 

Don  Marcos  started  on  hearing  his  voice ;  it  was  a  sol- 
emn voice  such  as  he  had  never  heard,  a  tremulous  voice 
like  a  sentimental  song  in  the  depths  of  which  lay  tear- 
drops. 

The  doctor  laid  his  surgical  case  on  the  frayed  carpet 
in  the  auto.  There  were  three  such  cases  now.  It  was 
not  until  then  that  the  Colonel  decided  to  relieve  himself 
of  the  two  precious  boxes,  placing  them  on  top  of  the 
doctor's. 

The  car  started  off  up  the  mountain,  by  a  road  that 
rose  in  sharp  zigzags.  At  the  end  of  each  angle,  Monte 
Carlo  was  revealed,  smaller  and  smaller,  and  more  sun- 
ken, like  a  toy  city  built  of  blocks  with  its  red  roof  and 
many  ants  threading  its  streets  to  gather  together  in 
the  Square.  On  the  other  hand,  the  sea  seemed  to  arch 
its  back,  constantly  rising,  devouring  with  its  blue  recti- 
linear jaws  a  portion  of  the  sky  at  each  turn  in  the  climb. 

On  the  crest  of  the  hill  a  huge  mass  of  masonry  kept 


436  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

growing  more  and  more  gigantic;  La  Trophee,  a  name 
which  had  finally  changed  to  La  Turbie,  the  medieval 
name  of  the  little  gray,  walled  village,  which  huddled 
about  the  monument.  Two  slender  columns  of  white 
marble  flanking  the  rubble-work,  and  a  piece  of  the  cor- 
nice were  all  that  remained  of  the  proudest  of  Roman 
trophies — a  tower  30  meters  in  height,  with  a  gigantic 
statue  of  Augustus,  on  its  summit,  which  marked  on  the 
Alps  the  boundary  between  the  lands  of  the  Empire  and 
those  of  the  conquered  Gauls.  The  auto,  leaving  the 
hamlet  of  La  Turbie  behind,  was  now  running  along  the 
ancient  Roman  road. 

"I  can  see  the  Legions,"  Don  Marcos  gravely  mur- 
mured. 

It  was  a  mania  of  his.  He  had  never  had  sufficient 
.  imagination  to  be  able  to  see  the  Legions  for  himself ;  but 
after  witnessing  in  a  moving  picture  film  a  procession  of 
supers,  with  bare  legs  and  short  swords,  following  Julius 
Caesar's  horse,  Roman  military  life  had  had  no  myster- 
ies for  him,  and  every  time  he  went  up  to  La  Turbie  he 
murmured  the  same  words :    'T  can  see  the  Legions." 

A  few  minutes  later  he  forgot  his  resurrection  of  the 
warlike  past  to  point  out  various  buildings,  of  such  a 
bluish  gray  color  that  they  blended  with  the  hills  behind 
them.  It  was  Lewis'  castle.  Standing  out  from  it,  one 
could  see  solitary  towers,  joined  to  the  square  mass  of 
the  buildings  by  causeways;  watch  towers  flanking  the 
gates ;  sharp  slate  roofs,  with  double  rows  of  tiny  dorm- 
ers; roofs  that  only  had  the  wooden  rafters,  through 
which  one  could  see,  as  though  the  interior  had  been 
gutted  by  a  fire;  walls  half  built,  descending  at  a  right 
angle  like  a  stone  carpenter's  square  riveted  to  the  ground 
on  its  long  edge. 

From  a  distance  the  castle  might  have  been  taken  for 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  437 

an  abandoned  ruin.  Lewis,  having  lost  hope  of  being 
able  to  finish  it,  declared  in  good  faith  that  it  was  better 
thus,  since  it  would  save  him  the  trouble  of  decorating 
it  with  artificial  ruins.  It  looked  like  some  legendary  for- 
tress, such  as  those  his  father,  the  historian,  had  de- 
scribed, made  for  gray  skies,  for  moist  green  forests, 
and  which  seemed  anxious  to  escape  from  the  sun-baked 
landscape  of  scanty  vegetation,  and  to  shrink  from  con- 
tact with  the  olive  trees,  the  cacti,  and  the  woody  thickets 
covered  with  coarse  flowers. 

They  got  out  of  the  car  on  a  smooth  piece  of  ground, 
bordered  on  two  sides  by  two  buildings,  meeting  to  form 
a  right  angle.  It  was  the  court  of  honor,  the  future 
parade  ground  of  the  castle.  On  the  other  two  sides, 
some  walls  that  rose  only  a  meter  above  the  soil,  sug- 
gested what  the  courtyard  might  some  day  be,  if  Fortune 
would  only  cease  being  so  intractable  for  the  proprietor. 
At  the  open  end  of  the  flat  ground  was  another  hired  car, 
and  beside  it  the  three  soldiers. 

Lewis  came  forward  to  greet  the  Prince.  They  had 
arrived  a  short  time  before,  and  as  he  was  in  a  hurry,  he 
went  into  conference  with  the  Colonel  at  once. 

Don  Marcos  was  the  oracle  that  he  must  consult  in 
order  not  to  lose  any  time.  Might  they  end  this  business 
right  here?  Would  it  not  be  better  to  do  it  behind  the 
castle,  in  an  orchard  surrounded  by  old  olive  trees  ?  The 
Colonel,  with  a  pistol  case  under  each  arm,  was  examin- 
ing the  terrain.  The  one  thing  that  really  concerned  him 
at  first  was  his  own  person.  He  felt,  indeed,  that  he 
looked  ridiculous.  There  were  these  three  officers  with 
their  uniforms ;  the  Prince,  with  his  dark  blue  street  suit ; 
the  doctor,  dressed  like  an  old  man ;  Lewis,  as  usual,  with 
the  wide  straw  hat,  without  which  he  would  never  dream 
of  taking  a  trip  to  the  castle;  and  there  he  was  himself 


438  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

wrapped  in  his  large,  solemn  frock  coat,  which  seemed  to 
frighten  the  very  doves,  that  had  taken  refuge  in  the 
gables  and  the  ruined  walls. 

After  taking  a  glance  behind  the  castle,  he  decided  on 
the  court-yard,  which  was  free  from  trees.  He  would 
place  the  two  contestants  so  that  their  figures  would  not 
stand  out  as  targets,  against  a  wall  in  the  background. 

Lewis,  in  spite  of  his  haste,  felt  it  necessary  to  do  the 
honors  of  the  house. 

"A  glass  of  whiskey?"  As  they  had  not  given  him 
time  to  make  preparations,  and  as  he  was  now  living  at 
Monte  Carlo,  his  cellar  was  exhausted.  But  he  was  sure 
that  by  looking  around  a  little  he  could  come  across  a 
good  bottle.  What  respectable  house  could  not  produce 
a  bottle  of  whiskey  for  friends? 

"When  we  have  finished,  my  Lord,"  said  Don  Marcos, 
scandalized  at  this  invitation  which  was  an  infringement 
upon  solemn  regulations. 

The  four  seconds  and  the  doctor  were  in  a  room  on 
the  ground  floor,  adorned  with  ancient  battle  trophies. 
The  two  contestants  had  been  forgotten  in  the  courtyard, 
like  actors  waiting  for  their  turn  to  appear. 

Toledo  opened  the  pistol  cases,  and  gave  the  captains 
the  one  he  had  found  that  morning  at  Cap-Ferrat.  Fate 
was  to  decide  which  of  the  two  were  to  be  used. 

"It  isn't  necessary,"  said  the  Parisian.  "Either  one, 
it's  all  the  same  to  us.    Arrange  it  all  to  suit  yourself." 

Don  Marcos  protested  against  this  irreverent  desire  to 
shorten  the  ceremonials.  It  was  all  quite  necessary ;  they 
were  there  on  very  grave  business. 

A  five- franc  piece  shone  in  his  hand.  What  efforts  it 
had  cost  him  to  obtain  that  piece  of  money.  Of  all  the 
preparations  of  the  morning,  that  had  taken  the  most  time 
and  been  the  most  difficult  to  arrange.  Coins  had  disap- 
peared with  the  coming  of  the  war.    One  could  find  noth- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  439 

ing  but  paper  money,  and  a  five-franc  note  was  of  no  use 
in  a  matter  of  heads  or  tails!  He  had  been  obliged  to 
ask  one  of  the  important  officers  in  the  Casino  to  hand 
over  that  precious  disc. 

"Heads  or  tails?" 

And  the  Colonel  felt  a  secret  thrill  of  joy  as  luck  fa- 
vored his  ancient  pistols.    He  was  beginning  to  triumph ! 

The  doctor,  in  the  meantime,  was  looking  out  of  the 
drawing  room  door,  with  a  certain  air  of  amazement,  not 
to  say  of  indignation.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  Col- 
onel. Finally,  he  called  Don  Marcos  aside.  Was  that 
Lieutenant  the  man  who  was  going  to  fight  the  Prince? 
He  knew  the  boy;  a  friend  of  his,  an  army  surgeon  had 
talked  to  him  about  the  Lieutenant's  case  as  an  astonish- 
ing instance  of  vitality.  It  was  a  disgusting  piece  of  fool- 
ishness that  was  being  planned:  it  amounted  to  murder. 
Why,  that  boy  might  fall  stark  dead  before  the  first  shot 
was  fired!  They  had  performed  an  amazingly  delicate 
operation  on  his  skull ;  it  was  a  miracle  that  he  had  sur- 
vived at  all,  and  he  might  fall  dead  instantly  at  the 
slightest  emotion. 

Don  Marcos  found  an  heroic  answer,  worthy  of  him- 
self. 

"Doctor,  for  a  man  like  that,  fighting  is  not  an  emo- 
tion." 

He  then  proceeded  with  slow  solemnity  to  carry  out 
the  most  delicate  part  of  the  proceedings :  the  loading  of 
the  pistols.  The  two  captains  followed  with  a  look  of 
curiosity  this  operation,  which  was  quite  strange  for 
them,  though  they  imagined  they  had  seen  a  whole  lot 
of  military  life.  The  Parisian  almost  laughed  as  he 
watched  how  Toledo  handled  the  diminutive  ivory  spoon 
which  contained  the  charge  of  powder,  scrutinizing  it 
carefully  before  pouring  it  into  the  barrel  of  the  weapon, 
with  a  certain  fear  of  having  put  a  grain  more  in  one  than 


440  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

in  the  other.  Toledo  was  sure  the  heroic  jester  was  mak- 
ing fun  of  his  scrupulous  precautions.  But  the  Captain 
would  not  dare  deny  his  interest  in  the  novelty  of  the 
ceremony. 

Lewis  went  out  to  get  the  automobiles  moved  away  as 
far  as  a  nearby  grove,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the  chauf- 
feurs. They  obeyed  reluctantly,  intending  to  return, 
even  though  they  might  have  to  creep  along  the  ground, 
to  witness  the  spectacle. 

Toledo  left  the  two  pistols  on  an  ancient  Venetian 
table.  They  were  ready!  No  one  was  to  touch  them! 
They  were  something  sacred.  Then  his  eyes,  falling  on 
the  wall  in  front  of  him,  were  lighted  with  a  sudden 
gleam  of  inspiration;  he  hurriedly  advanced  and  un- 
hooked two  rusty  swords  from  a  panoply  and  went  out 
with  them  into  the  courtyard. 

Deserted  by  their  seconds,  the  contestants  had  begun 
to  pace  up  and  down,  pretending  they  did  not  see  each 
other,  and  each  catching  the  other  looking  at  him  from 
the  corner  of  his  eye. 

They  both  suddenly  found  themselves  in  the  situation 
of  the  preceding  afternoon.  It  was  as  though  no  time 
had  passed,  as  though  they  were  still  on  the  top  steps  of 
the  Casino. 

All  that  the  Prince  had  been  thinking  over  in  the  last 
few  hours  and  that  had  followed  him  until  then  in  his 
thoughts,  with  a  suggestion  of  remorse,  immediately  van- 
ished. So  this  young  gentleman  was  the  man  who  had 
tried  to  strike  him.  Prince  Lubimoff!  He  would  soon 
find  out  what  such  daring  was  to  cost  him. 

But  his  anger  seemed  less  violent  than  on  the  preced- 
ing day,  something  more  reasoned,  more  completely  the 
product  of  his  will ;  and  this  weakening  finally  made  him 
angry  at  himself. 

The  other  man  was  more  instinctive  in  his  rancor.    As 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  441 

he  looked  at  the  Prince,  he  saw  also  the  sweet  image  of 
that  great  lady,  his  benefactress.  It  was  because  the 
Prince  was  rich  that  he  had  tried  to  trample  on  him, 
treating  him  like  one  of  his  serfs,  on  his  far-off  estates  in 
Russia.  All  the  best  things  in  life  had  been  for  this 
aristocrat,  and  now  he  was  claiming  possession  of  the 
few  scattered  crumbs,  even  of  happiness  that  fall  to  the 
unfortunate!  He  did  not  know  how  to  kill  a  man  in 
these  regulated  combats ;  but  he  was  going  to  kill,  never- 
theless, and  felt  the  absolute  confidence  in  himself  that 
had  animated  him  out  there  in  the  trenches  in  the  crud- 
est days  of  danger  and  success. 

The  presence  of  Don  Marcos  with  a  sword  in  either 
hand  disturbed  their  reflections  and  interrupted  their 
walking  back  and  forth.  They  both  came  to  a  standstill. 
The  Colonel  looked  at  the  sky,  then  took  several  paces 
in  different  directions.  He  wanted  to  fix  it  so  that 
neither  of  the  contestants  would  have  the  sun  in  his  eyes. 

Finally  he  proudly  thrust  one  of  the  swords  into  the 
ground.  It  seemed  to  him  appropriate  to  the  character 
of  the  place,  to  make  use  of  these  ancient  weapons.  They 
seemed  to  him  more  in  harmony  with  Lewis'  romantic 
castle,  than  two  stakes  or  two  cans.  But  his  satisfaction 
this  time  was  of  short  duration.  On  raising  his  eyes,  he 
saw  that  Prince,  and  he  saw  Martinez.  .    .    , 

Poor  Colonel !  Up  to  that  moment  he  had  proceeded 
like  a  priest  intoxicated  by  his  own  ceremonious  words 
and  his  own  incense,  without  thinking  of  the  person  in 
whose  interest  they  are  offered  up.  He  had  prepared  all 
these  formalities  with  the  blind  fervor  of  a  professional 
who  resumes  his  functions  after  several  years  of  inac- 
tion, and  thinks  only  of  his  work,  forgetting  for  whom 
it  is  being  done.  He  had  managed  everything  in  accord- 
ance with  the  rites,  so  that  two  gentlemen  might  kill  each 
other  in  compliance  with  the  strictest  conventions;  but 


442  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

now,  at  the  supreme  moment,  he  realized  for  the  first  time 
that  these  two  men  were  his  Prince  and  his  Martinez,  his 
fellow  countryman,  his  hero. 

He  was  amazed  to  think  that  he  had  been  able  to  go 
as  far  as  he  had  gone  up  to  that  point.  He  felt  the  aston- 
ishment of  a  drunken  man  recovering  his  reason  in  the 
midst  of  objects  broken  by  him  in  a  fierce  delirium.  He 
recalled  Castro's  words  and  those  of  the  doctor ;  why  had 
he  not  seen  that  this  duel  was  a  piece  of  foolishness  ?  Re- 
pentance seemed  to  rush  upon  him.  There  was  a  burn- 
ing sensation  in  his  eyes,  which  began  to  fill  with  tears. 
But  now  it  was  too  late.  He  must  go  on,  even  though  his 
serenity  should  fail  him. 

The  one  thing  that  he  had  forgotten  in  his  minute 
preparations  was  the  tape  measure,  and  he  saw  in  this 
omission  an  act  of  Providence.  Starting  from  the  sword 
planted  in  the  ground  he  began  to  pace  off  the  terrain. 
But  they  were  not  paces  that  he  took;  they  were  enor- 
mous strides.  He  fairly  leaped.  Now  he  was  absolutely 
sure  of  the  ridiculousness  of  his  aj^earance,  as  his  coat- 
tails  flapped  back  and  forth  like  wings,  as  they  were 
thrust  aside  by  the  vigorous  movements  of  his  legs. 
"Fifteen  paces."    And  he  planted  the  second  sword. 

If  he  could  have  had  his  way,  he  would  have  gone  to 
the  farthest  end  of  the  open  field ;  perhaps  as  far  as  the 
place  where  the  automobiles  were  awaiting.  Then  he 
looked  uneasily  at  the  ground  he  had  measured.  It  was 
surely  over  twenty  meters ;  a  betrayal !  What  cowardice ! 
Might  God  and  gentlemen  forgive  him! 

Once  more  he  brought  out  the  five-franc  piece.  He 
had  to  decide  again  by  chance  the  position  of  each  con- 
testant. The  Parisian  captain  greeted  this  proposal 
with  a  bored  air. 

"But  I  told  you  before  to  do  whatever  you  pleased !" 

Lewis  was  muttering  impatiently  under  his  mustache. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  443 

When  the  coin  had  marked  the  position  of  each  one, 
Don  Marcos  placed  the  Prince  beside  one  sword. 

"Marquis:  your  hat,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

Lubimoff,  understanding  this  suggestion,  took  off  his 
hat,  throwing  it  some  distance  away.  His  adversary 
could  not  fight  with  his  kepis  on  his  head.  Its  yellowish 
color  and  the  emblem  of  the  Legion  embroidered  on  the 
brim  of  the  cap  made  him  conspicuous  in  an  unfair  man- 
ner. His  uniform  also  worried  Toledo,  who  tried  to  do 
away  with  all  the  visible  details  on  it. 

Assisted  by  one  of  the  captains,  he  proceeded  to  strip 
Martinez  of  his  decorations  of  honor,  after  placing  him 
beside  the  other  sword.  It  was  like  a  ceremony  of  degra- 
dation. They  took  off  his  kepis,  then  his  medals,  the  red 
ribbon  that  hung  from  his  shoulder,  and  the  dark  tan 
strips  across  his  breast  and  the  belt  of  the  same  color 
around  his  waist.  The  Lieutenant  seemed  reduced  in  sta- 
ture and  dignity  in  his  loose  uniform,  without  his  decora- 
tions. The  Parisian,  always  in  a  merry  mood,  compared 
him  to  a  plucked  bird. 

The  Colonel  felt  that  it  was  necessary  to  repeat  aloud 
the  conditions  of  the  duel.  The  Prince  knew  them  and 
was  accustomed  to  such  encounters.  It  was  Martinez 
who  needed  his  suggestions.  After  he,  as  the  director  of 
the  combat,  should  give  the  word  "Fire !"  he  would  slow- 
ly count,  "one,  two,  three."  They  might  aim  and  fire  in 
that  space  of  time.  "Be  very  careful.  Lieutenant !"  Don 
Marcos  spoke  with  tragic  solemnity. 

"If  you  fire  before  the  one  or  after  the  three,  you  will 
be  declared  a  felon." 

The  matter  of  being  declared  a  felon  frightened  the 
young  man.  He  didn't  know  exactly  what  it  was,  but 
the  Colonel's  look  as  he  said  this  terrible  word,  made  a 
deep  impression  on  him.  He  no  longer  thought  so  ve- 
hemently of  killing  his  adversary.  This  desire  retreated 


444  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

into  the  background.  Nor  did  he  think  of  the  fact  that 
he  himself  might  be  killed.  His  one  preoccupation  was 
to  calculate  the  time  properly  and  obey  instructions  with- 
out bothering  about  aiming;  to  fire  before  the  terrible 
three;  so  that  he  should  not  be  given  that  horrible  mys- 
terious name  that  made  his  hair  stand  on  end. 

Don  Marcos  entered  the  castle,  and  appeared  again 
with  the  two  loaded  pistols.  He  gave  one  to  the  Prince. 
The  latter  did  not  need  any  lessons.  He  put  the  other  in 
the  Lieutenant's  right  hand,  and  told  him  how  he  should 
stand,  with  his  arm  bent,  holding  the  weapon  high,  pre- 
senting only  the  narrow  side  of  his  body  to  his  adver- 
sary. Once  more  he  dwelt  on  his  warning.  He  should 
be  careful  not  to  make  a  mistake!  Now  he  knew! 
One  .    .    .   two   .    .    .   three  .    .    . 

He  himself  stood  midway  between  the  adversaries  with- 
drawing only  a  few  paces  from  the  line  of  fire.  At  that 
moment  he  was  willing  to  die,  so  they  both  might  remain 
unharmed ! 

He  took  off  his  hat  solemnly,  and  with  a  gesture  of 
profound  sadness. 

"Gentlemen  .    .    .*' 

During  the  entire  morning,  as  he  walked  from  one 
place  to  another,  making  his  preparations,  he  had  not 
ceased  to  think  of  what  he  would  say  at  that  moment, 
working  up  a  superb  piece  of  oratory,  brief  and  stirring. 
He  had  frequently  spoken  at  duels,  meriting  the  approval 
of  the  other  seconds,  retired  Generals,  and  such  experts, 
accustomed  to  formalities  of.  the  kind.  But  the  short 
harangue  of  to-day  was  going  to  be  his  masterpiece. 

"Gentlemen  .  .  ."he  repeated.  He  hesitated,  not 
knowing  what  to  add,  as  it  had  all  been  blotted  from  his 
memory.  With  a  stammering  voice,  he  went  on  saying 
whatever  occurred  to  him,  with  no  attempt  at  order,  and 


THE  ENEMTES  of  WOMEN  445 

without  remembering  a  single  word  of  the  phrases  which 
he  had  so  carefully  polished  some  hours  before. 

"There  was  still  time  ...  a  little  good  will  on  their 
part;  they  were  both  men  of  courage  who  had  proved 
their  valor  ...  an  explanation  at  the  last  moment  was 
no  dishonor!" 

His  words  were  lost  in  a  tense  silence.  But  this  silence 
was  not  absolute.  There  was  somebody  behind  the  Col- 
onel, kicking  the  ground.  It  was  Lewis  who  was  con- 
sulting his  watch,  with  a  scowl.  It  was  after  three 
o'clock ;  the  good  series  in  the  Casino  had  already  begun. 

The  Colonel  decided  to  end  his  speech.  Besides,  he  was 
frightened  at  the  motionless  and  rigid  figure  of  his 
Prince,  with  his  pistol  raised.  He  had  never  seen  him 
so  ugly.  His  face  was  an  earthen  color,  there  was  a 
squint  in  his  eyes,  and  his  cheek  bones  protruded.  His 
features  had  been  changed  in  a  moment,  as  though  the 
savagery  of  his  remote  ancestors,  awakened  within,  had 
risen  to  his  face. 

"Since  there  is  no  possible  agreement  ..." 

At  that  moment  the  Colonel  thought  he  had  recalled  the 
last  part  of  his  forgotten  speech.  But  the  tread  of  bril- 
liant words  escaped  him  again,  and  he  was  obliged  to  im- 
provise, so  he  ended  in  a  solemn  fashion: 

"Come,  gentlemen!  Honor  ...  is  honor;  and  the 
laws  of  chivalry  .    .    .   are  the  laws  of  chivalry." 

He  heard  at  his  back  the  murmur  of  approval.  It  was 
the  voice  of  the  former  ticket-seller.  "Bravo!  Won- 
derful !"  But  he  did  not  care  to  hear  what  he  said.  You 
could  never  tell  when  that  fellow  was  in  earnest. 

"Ready?" 

The  silence  of  the  two  adversaries  gave  the  Colonel  to 
understand  that  he  might  give  the  words  of  command. 

"Fire!  ...  One  .   .   ." 


446  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

A  shot  rang  out.  Martinez,  who  was  only  thinking  of 
the  terrible  three,  had  fired. 

He  saw  the  Prince  standing  in  front  of  him.  He 
looked  much  taller;  he  could  see  the  black  hole  of  his 
weapon,  and  above  that  hole  an  eye,  with  a  look  of  cold 
ferocity,  which  was  choosing  a  point  on  his  antagonist's 
body  to  send  the  obedient  bullet.  And  with  unconscious 
arrogance,  he  turned  on  his  heel,  so  as  to  present  not  his 
profile,  but  the  whole  breadth  of  his  body. 

The  four  seconds  did  not  see  this.  Their  eyes  had  fo- 
cused on  Lubimoff,  the  personification  of  death. 

Time  contracts  and  expands  us,  according  to  our  emo- 
tions. Its  measure  and  rhythm  depend  on  the  state  of 
the  human  mind.  Sometimes  it  gallops  along  at  a  dizzy 
rate,  over  the  faces  of  clocks  that  seem  to  have  gone  mad ; 
at  other  times,  it  collapses  and  refuses  to  proceed,  and 
a  thousandth  of  a  second  embraces  more  emotions  than 
months  and  years  of  ordinary  life.  The  four  witnesses 
felt  as  though  the  hours  had  been  paralyzed,  and  the 
sun  were  remaining  motionless  forever.  Time  did  not 
exist. 

"Two !"  sighed  Don  Marcos,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
his  lips  would  never  cease  uttering  this  word,  as  though 
it  were  composed  of  an  infinite  number  of  syllables. 

Lewis  had  forgotten  the  existence  of  the  Casino;  he 
was  conscious  only  of  the  present.  The  Captain  from 
Bordeaux,  bending  forward,  was  leaning  on  his  wounded 
foot,  without  feeling  any  pain;  the  other  officer  was 
swearing  between  his  teeth,  and  shaking  his  rattan  cane 
until  it  hummed.  The  doctor,  with  professional  instinct, 
was  stooping  over  the  surgical  case  that  lay  at  his  feet. 

Lubimoff  was  going  to  kill  him!  All  four  were  sure 
that  he  was  going  to  kill  him.  An  implacable  expression 
of  security,  and  of  ferocious  coolness,  radiated  from  that 
man,  with  arm  upraised,  so  motionless,  and  pitiless.    The 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  447 

expression  on  his  Kalmuck  face  was  of  such  deep  fatal- 
ity, his  one  eye  tightly  shut  and  the  other  open,  that  they 
could  all  see  an  imaginary  line  drawn  from  the  mouth  of 
the  pistol  to  the  breast  of  the  man  opposite,  the  road  that 
the  tiny  sphere  of  lead  was  going  to  follow  with  in- 
exorable accuracy. 

Proud  of  his  superiority,  the  Prince  postponed  the 
moment  of  dealing  death,  with  a  sort  of  savage  playful- 
ness. He  had  his  enemy  in  his  claws,  and  could  toy  with 
him  during  those  three  months,  that  were  as  long  as 
centuries. 

In  the  dizzy  coincidence  of  image  whirling  through  his 
brain,  he  could  see  the  Princess,  his  mother,  beautiful  and 
arrogant,  as  she  was  when  she  recounted  to  him  as  a  little 
boy,  the  greatness  of  the  Lubimoffs.  Theft  he  saw  his 
father,  the  General,  somber  and  kindly,  saying  in  a  rough 
voice:     "The  strong  man  must  be  kind." 

As  he  thought  of  his  father,  his  pistol  swerved  slightly, 
but  immediately  he  corrected   his  aim. 

In  his  imagination  a  train  was  lowly  passing.  French 
soldiers.  He  saw  Castro  and  the  insolent  red-haired  fel- 
low who  was  offering  him  a  seat.  Another  train  ad- 
vanced in  the  opposite  direction,  an  endless  train  that 
kept  coming  from  the  depths  of  the  ocean.  Hurrahs, 
whistling,  dark  blouses,  blue  collars,  little  caps  that 
looked  as  though  made  of  paper.  "Good  afternoon, 
Prince!"  The  luminous  smile  of  a  pale  Virgin:  Lady 
Lewis  with  her  two  blind  men,  handsome  and  tragic  .    .    . 

His  pistol  fell.  Above  it  he  could  see  the  entire  body 
of  his  adversary,  that  obscure  soldier,  condemned  to  die 
before  long  no  doubt,  from  wounds  received  in  a  land 
that  was  not  his  own,  for  a  cause  which  was  that  of  all 
men. 

"Three !"  said  the  Colonel. 

But  before  he  could  finish  the  word,  a  shot  rang  out. 


448  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  grass  stirred  at  intervals  along  the  soil  as  the  invis- 
ible bullet  ricocheted  into  the  distance. 

The  scythe-like  stroke  passed  close  to  the  legs  of  the 
Director  of  the  combat ;  but  Don  Marcos  was  in  no  mood 
to  notice  such  a  thing.  His  child-like  joy  made  him  run 
hither  and  thither.  His  frock  coat  seemed  to  laugh  as  its 
tails  flapped  up  and  down. 

He  was  so  happy,  that  he  almost  embraced  Martinez. 
The  latter  must  shake  hands  with  the  Prince,  a  recon- 
ciliation was  necessary. 

The  officer  refused  to  take  this  advice.  He  had  his 
doubts  about  the  way  the  combat  had  ended.  The  Prince 
had  fired  at  the  ground,  and  he  was  not  going  to  let  him 
spare  his  life  like  that. 

'^oung  man!"  said  Don  Marcos,  with  an  air  of  au- 
thority, "you  are  new  in  such  affairs.  Let  yourself  be 
guided  by  those  who  know  more  and  give  the  Prince  your 
hand." 

Immediately  he  went  in  quest  of  Lubimoif. 

He  saw  him  standing  on  the  same  spot.  He  had 
thrown  the  pistol  away  and  was  covering  his  face  with 
his  hands. 

The  only  one  beside  him  was  Lewis. 

"Come,  Prince!  What's  this?  Be  calm!  Perhaps  a 
good  glass  of  whiskey."  Toledo  heard  a  sob  of  anguish, 
the  choking  of  a  stifled  breast. 

Respectfully  he  drew  away  one  of  the  Prince's  hands 
leaving  his  face  uncovered.  At  present  it  was  a  dull 
brick  red,  shiny  with  sweat  and  tears. 

Lubimoif  was  weeping. 

The  Colonel  recalled  the  dead  Princess  in  her  days  of 
stormy  humor,  when,  after  an  explosion  of  wrath,  she 
would  wring  her  hands,  and  ask  forgiveness,  weeping 
hysterically. 

As  he  gently  took  his  hand,  he  felt  that  the  Prince  was 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  449 

following  him,  meekly  without  any  will  of  his  own. 
Martinez  was  waiting  a  few  «?teps  away. 

"Shake  hands.  It's  all  over.  Gentlemen  are  always 
.    .    .  gentlemen." 

They  shook  hands. 

And  then  something  unexpected  happened  which  pro- 
duced a  long  silence  of  surprise  and  amazement. 

Michael  bent  forward,  knelt  down,  and  raised  to  his 
lips  the  hand  he  was  holding  in  his  own,  with  the  same 
humble  gesture  that  the  serfs  of  the  Steppes  had  used  in 
the  presence  of  his  powerful  ancestors. 

Then  he  kissed  it,  moistening  it  with  his  tears. 


CHAPTER  X 

A  WEEK  passed,  and  Lubimoff  had  not  once  left  Villa 
Sirena.  In  his  conversations  with  the  Colonel — ^his  only 
companion  in  this  solitary  life — he  had  avoided  making 
any  allusion  to  what  had  occurred  in  Lewis'  castle.  To- 
ledo, for  his  part,  displayed  absolute  discretion,  as  though 
he  had  forgotten  the  duel  and  the  strange  ending  which 
the  Prince  had  given  it;  but  the  latter  guessed  that  the 
Colonel's  silence  concealed  many  things  that  might  have 
proved  distasteful  to  himself. 

The  other  seconds  had  probably  told  everything.  What 
people  must  have  been  saying !  And  fearing  the  curiosity 
of  society  which  was  doubtless  repeating  his  name  on  all 
occasions,  Lubimoff  remained  in  retirement,  with  the 
hope  of  being  forgotten.  Some  one  would  lose  or  win  an 
enormous  sum  in  the  Casino,  and  that  would  be  enough 
to  make  the  gossips  stop  talking  about  him. 

His  loneliness,  however,  began  to  weigh  upon  him  like 
a  fate.  He  was  getting  tired  of  walking  about  his 
garden  all  the  time.  It  seemed  to  him  narrow  and  mo- 
notonous. Besides,  Lewis'  niece,  abusing  her  privilege, 
came  every  afternoon,  with  a  constantly  renewed  escort 
of  wounded  Englishmen.  She  ran  about  with  them 
through  the  Avenues,  amid  the  cries  of  the  exotic  birds, 
weaving  great  garlands  of  flowers  for  her  soldiers. 
Meanwhile  he  was  obliged  to  hide  in  the  upper  stories  of 
the  villa  to  escape  this  child-like  joy,  which  seemed  to 
him  to  have  something  gloomy  and  funereal  about  it. 

The  nights  seemed  endless.  He  thought  with  wistful 
longing  of  the  quiet  evenings  with  the  "enemies  of  wom- 

450 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  451 

en",  when  Spadoni  used  to  sit  at  the  piano  or  perform 
his  infinite  calculations,  always  doubling;  when  Novoa 
would  indulge  in  his  scientific  paradoxes,  and  Castro  re- 
late the  adventures  of  his  grandfather  "the  red  Don 
Quixote."  Where  were  they  now,  those  comrades  of 
his  dreamy  happiness  ? 

Atilio  interested  him  particularly.  He  had  asked  Don 
Marcos  about  him  twice,  without  the  latter  being  very 
clear  in  his  explanations.  The  Colonel  never  saw  Castro 
any  more  in  the  Casino;  he  doubtless  was  keeping  away 
out  of  fear  of  gambling.  The  Prince  had  a  feeling  that 
the  Colonel  knew  something  more,  and  was  refusing  to 
talk  from  motives  of  discretion. 

One  morning,  the  weariness  of  his  imprisonment  finally 
galvanized  his  stupefied  will.  Why  should  he  not  go  in 
quest  of  those  friends?  Perhaps  if  he  were  to  take  the 
first  step  he  would  succeed  in  renewing  relations  with 
them,  and  re-establish  his  former  life. 

As  he  was  going  out,  the  Colonel  stopped  him  to  speak 
again  about  a  matter  that  had  occupied  their  attention  the 
evening  before.  What  reply  should  he  give  the  Paris 
business  agent?  The  nouveau  riche  who  had  bought  the 
palace  on  the  Monceau  Park,  wanted  to  buy  Villa  Sirena 
also.  The  Prince's  manager  was  transmitting  a  final 
offer;  a  million  and  a  half.  The  man  would  not  give  any 
more,  and  it  was  necessary  to  reply  in  haste,  before  his 
caprice  should  turn  toward  some  other  acquisition. 

Michael  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  though  the  matter 
were  something  of  no  interest  to  him. 

"Tell  him  I  don't  want  to  sell.  No — it  would  be  better 
still  not  to  reply  at  all.  We  shall  see  later  on;  I  shall 
think  it  over." 

On  getting  out  of  the  street  car  in  Monte  Carlo  he 
passed  to  the  right  of  the  Casino,  and  followed  the  upper 
Boulevards.    First  he  was  going  in  quest  of  Spadoni,  who 


452  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

lived  nearest.  Besides,  the  latter  would  surely  know 
better  than  Novoa  where  Atilio  was  staying.  Perhaps 
they  were  living  together. 

He  had  a  vague  idea  of  the  house,  through  Castro's 
joking.  The  pianist  was  "the  guardian  of  the  tomb" 
above  the  Sainte  Devote  ravine. 

From  the  summit  of  a  bridge  the  Prince  saw  this  ra- 
vine at  his  feet.  Its  sides  were  covered  with  gardens, 
luxurious  villas  and  hotels,  and  at  its  outlet  stretched 
the  smiling  harbor  of  La  Condamine. 

Sixty  years  before,  the  ravine  had  been  a  wild  spot.  It 
was  visited  only  by  religious  processions  coming  from  the 
walled  City  of  Monaco  to  pay  homage  to  Sainte  Devote; 
in  a  little  white  church,  which  to-day  seemed  still  more 
diminutive  beside  the  arches  of  the  railway  bridge. 

In  the  earliest  times  of  Christianity,  a  bark  without 
oars  or  sail,  guided  by  the  will  of  God,  who  had  deigned 
to  grant  a  patron  saint  to  the  inhabitants  of  "Hercules 
Harbor,"  had  grounded  keel  on  those  shores. 

The  bark  contained  the  miracle  working  body  of  a 
Corsican  Christian  martyrized  by  the  Romans.  Nobody 
knew  her  name,  and  popular  devotion  called  her  simply 
the  Sainte  Devote.  Once  a  year,  at  nightfall,  on  her 
feast  day,  a  large  crowd  from  the  Casino  left  roulette  and 
f rente  et  qtwrante  to  watch  the  sailors  of  Monaco,  to  the 
sound  of  music,  bum  an  old  bark  in  front  of  the  church, 
thus,  cutting  off  all  means  of  retreat  to  the  Holy  Pat- 
roness. 

The  stony  fields,  once  planted  with  prickly  pear  and 
olive  trees,  were  now  covered  with  palaces,  as  large  as 
barracks.  They  supported  a  second  lofty  city,  above, 
which  stretched  away  along  the  slopes  of  the  Alps,  and 
united  Monaco  with  Monte  Carlo.  The  land  here,  now 
sold  at  fabulous  prices,  was  a  spot  so  neglected  half  a 
century  before  that  any  of  its  owners  might  arrange 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  453 

without  interference  to  be  buried  on  his  own  property. 

An  obscure  officer  in  Napoleon's  Army,  bom  in  Mo- 
naco, and  who  had  succeeded  in  becoming  a  General  in 
the  days  of  Louis  Philippe,  had  had  his  tomb  built  in 
an  olive  grove  above  the  Sainte  Devote  ravine.  Later 
gambling  had  made  Monte  Carlo  rise  above  the  wild 
plateau  of  the  Caverns ;  the  elegant,  new  city  was  spread- 
ing out  to  join  old  Monaco,  covering  all  the  land  of  the 
principality  with  buildings,  and  the  tomb  of  the  unknown 
warrior  was  imprisoned  by  this  wave  of  great  hotels, 
palaces,  and  villas.  The  olive  grove  around  the  tomb 
was  sold  by  the  yard,  making  a  fortune  for  the  soldier's 
heirs.  Between  the  sepulchre  and  the  edge  of  the  ravine 
there  remained  a  level  space,  from  which  one  could  enjoy 
a  view  of  the  splendid  panorama.  A  millionaire  from 
Paris  had  been  bold  enough  to  construct  over  the  spot  a 
house  in  "artistic"  style,  with  gardens  descending  in  ter- 
races. He  had  imagined  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to 
have  the  General  transferred  to  the  cemetery  and  the 
mortuary  chapel  demolished.  But  the  dead  man  was  on 
his  own  land,  and  could  not  come  to  life  to  cancel  the  ar- 
rangements he  had  made  in  his  will  with  so  little  pre- 
science of  the  extraordinary  growth  old  Monaco  was  to 
make ;  as  a  result  there  was  no  power  on  earth  that  could 
demolish  his  last  dwelling  place. 

From  the  harbor  Michael  had  often,  above  the  heights 
of  the  ravine,  seen  this  pantheon  which  was  to  serve  him 
now  as  a  place  for  meeting  Spadoni.  It  was  a  simple 
block  of  masonry,  with  white-washed  walls,  four  pin- 
nacles at  the  angles,  and  a  cupola  of  black  tile.  From  a 
distance  it  looked  like  a  Mohammedan  hermitage,  the 
tomb  of  some  saint  of  Islam,  and  the  similarity  was  car- 
ried out  by  groups  of  palm  trees  in  the  neighboring  gar- 
dens. 

Castro  had  often  made  him  laugh  by  telling  him  the 


454  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

story  of  the  dead  General  and  his  wealthy  neighbors. 
The  owners  of  the  villa  could  not  sleep  with  a  dead  man 
on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  and  moreover,  it  was  a 
nameless  dead  man,  which  made  it  all  the  more  creepy 
and  mysterious. 

Nobody  could  remember  the  name  of  this  gentleman, 
who  had  commanded  thousands  of  men,  and  was  still 
exerting  his  will  power  on  the  living.  The  owners  de- 
cided to  rent  the  villa  with  all  its  elegant  furnishings  for 
a  modest  sum,  and  at  first,  the  ladies  who  were  gam- 
bling in  the  Casino,  quarreled  as  to  who  should  get  it. 
How  wonderful  it  would  be  to  live  in  a  little  palace 
adorned  by  famous  Parisian  decorators,  and  with  a  mag- 
nificent view,  all  for  five  hundred  francs  a  month !  But 
the  renters  hastened  to  give  up  this  bargain  to  others. 
Imagine  having  to  pass  the  General's  mausoleum  at 
midnight,  on  returning  from  the  Casino!  And  think 
of  not  being  able  to  open  one's  window  blinds  without 
having  to  look  that  corpse  in  the  face.  Besides,  the  spite- 
ful tongues  of  the  women  gave  each  successive  tenant 
the  nickname  of:  "The  guardian  of  the  tomb." 

Then  Spadoni  appeared.  Castro  had  a  vague  idea  that 
the  pianist  had  paid  the  first  month's  rent,  but  he  was  not 
sure.  What  he  knew  for  certain  was  that  he  had  not 
paid  any  more.  The  owners,  living  in  Paris,  had  finally 
accepted  the  situation,  considering  the  pianist  an  unpaid 
caretaker  for  that  house,  which  had  come  to  inspire  them 
with  terror. 

The  Prince  descended  the  wide  road  between  garden 
balustrades  and  walls  of  rock  broken  by  tufts  of  flowers 
hanging  from  the  crevices.  On  seeing  the  sepulchre  at 
close  hand,  he  understood  why  all  the  tenants  had  taken 
flight.  The  General  had  known  how  to  do  things.  The 
pinnacles,  as  well  as  the  iron  cross  which  surmounted  the 
cupola,  were  adorned  with  skulls  and  cross-bones;  and 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  455 

these  funereal  symbols,  by  force  of  contrast,  made  a  still 
deeper  impression  because  of  the  green  splendor  of  the 
adjoining  gardens  under  the  bright  blue  skies  and  the 
dazzling  sunlight,  with  the  smiling  harbor  in  the  back- 
ground, and  the  ruffled  surface  of  the  violet  sea.  The 
gate  of  the  nameless  mausoleum  had  not  been  opened  for 
many  years,  and  the  wind  had  heaped  the  dirt  against  the 
underpinnings.  Between  the  iron  gate  and  the  walls  a 
thick,  wild  growth  of  vegetation  had  appeared,  a  diminu- 
tive forest,  in  the  dense  growth  of  which  insects  made 
war  and  devoured  one  another  after  sending  forth  endless 
flying  and  creeping  expeditions  against  all  the  neighbor- 
ing houses, 

Lubimoff  passed  close  to  the  mausoleum  in  order  to 
reach  the  entrance  of  the  villa,  a  handsome  building  in  the 
Tuscan  style  of  architecture.  The  gate  was  a  compli- 
cated piece  of  iron  work ;  the  windows  had  stained  glass 
figures;  the  gray  walls  were  encrusted  with  marble  bas- 
reliefs,  and  ancient  escutcheons. 

He  knocked  in  vain  with  the  iron  dragon  that  served  as 
a  knocker.  Finally  from  an  adjoining  alley-way,  between 
two  walls,  appeared  a  woman  with  dishevelled  hair,  hold- 
ing an  infant  in  her  arms.  It  was  a  neighbor,  who  acted 
as  a  servant  for  Spadoni,  when  he  stayed  in  the  house. 
The  arrival  of  a  visitor  was  an  event  for  Her. 

"Yes,  he  is  in,"  she  said,  "don't  you  hear  him?" 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Michael  had  heard  the  sound  of 
a  piano,  deadened  by  the  thick  walls. 

The  woman,  convinced  that  the  artist  would  never  hear 
the  blows  of  the  knocker,  disappeared  around  the  comer. 
Shortly  afterward,  her  head  and  the  child  she  was  carry- 
ing in  her  arms  appeared  above  the  edge  of  the  wall. 

"Maestro!"  she  shouted.  "A  gentleman  to  see  you! 
A  visitor !" 


456  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

And  she  came  back  again,  smoothing  her  skirts  as 
though  she  had  just  descended  a  ladder. 

The  door  groaned  on  its  hinges,  as  it  opened,  and  Spa- 
doni  appeared  in  the  opening. 

"Oh,  your  Highness !" 

There  was  no  expression  of  surprise  in  his  smile.  He 
greeted  the  Prince  as  though  he  had  seen  him  the  day 
before. 

Then  he  guided  him  through  corridors  and  drawing- 
rooms,  which  were  sunk  in  deep  multi-colored  shadow, 
and  smelled  of  dust  and  mold.  It  had  been  many  months 
since  the  stained  glass  windows  had  been  opened,  or  the 
curtains  drawn.  Spadoni  lived  his  entire  life  in  a  single 
room.  Lubimoff  collided  with  furniture  and  curios,  as 
he  advanced,  almost  upsetting  two  huge  Japanese  vases, 
and  nearly  impaling  himself  on  the  numerous  projections 
in  the  profuse  decoration  of  a  "romantic  studio,"  which 
had  been  in  style  twenty-five  years  before. 

They  finally  returned  to  the  light,  a  dazzling  light  that 
entered  by  three  open  doors  overlooking  a  terrace  bor- 
dering the  ravine.  It  was  the  "hall"  of  the  villa,  deco- 
rated with  Hindustanee  draperies  and  divans.  The 
Prince  saw  that  Spadoni  had  excellent  quarters  in  his 
"tomb".  A  large  grand-piano  was  the  only  piece  of  fur- 
niture kept  clean  in  this  dust-invaded  room.  On  the 
music  rack  several  albums  of  music  in  manuscript  lay 
opened. 

Seeing  that  Lubimoff  noticed  them,  the  pianist  gave  a 
look  of  despair. 

His  poverty  was  very  great:  he  was  forced  to  give 
concerts  in  order  to  live,  and  found  himself  obliged  to 
study  the  new  operas. 

He  spoke  of  this  labor  as  though  it  represented  the 
crudest  imposition  of  inexorable  Reality,  the  greatest 
degradation  in  his  life. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  457 

Various  ladies  who  organized  benefits  for  the  soldiers 
had  sought  his  aid.  He  played  for  nothing,  "out  of  pat- 
riotism", but  the  good  ladies  always  found  a  way  of  giv- 
ing him  a  fair  sum.  His  poverty  was  tremendous !  He 
was  going  to  the  gambling  rooms  only  at  long  intervals. 
He  hadn't  enough  money  to  play  even  the  roulette  wheel, 
where  the  stakes  were  but  five  francs ! 

The  Prince  started  to  read  the  titles  of  the  scores,  but 
Spadoni  covered  them  up  in  comic  haste. 

"Awful  rot !  You  mustn't  look  at  those,  your  Highness. 
Here  on  the  Riviera,  when  the  ladies  are  getting  on  in 
years,  and  do  not  find  any  one  to  fall  in  love  with  them 
any  more,  they  devote  themselves  to  writing  love  songs 
or  dance  music  for  great  spectacles ;  and  the  Casino  ac- 
cepts their  work  in  order  not  to  oflFend  them.  It  results 
that  on  certain  days  the  Monte  Carlo  Theater  becomes 
the  Temple  of  Musical  Imbecility.  No ;  it  would  be  bet- 
ter for  you  to  see  what  we  are  giving  this  afternoon.  It 
is  the  work  of  a  millionairess  who  writes  the  whole  thing, 
music  and  words." 

And  he  read  aloud  the  titles  of  various  "picturesque 
scenes" :  Dialogue  betiveen  the  Butterfly  and  the  Rose, 
What  tha  Palm  Tree  said  to  the  Century  Plant,  Prayer 
of*  the  Grasshopper  to.  Our  Father  the  Sun. 

"Fortunately,  your  Highness,  this  humiliating  situation 
will  not  last.    I  have  a  way  out  of  it — a  way  out  of  it !" 

And  forgetting  the  piano,  the  scores,  and  his  musical 
degradation,  Spadoni  suddenly  launched  into  the  world 
of  dreams.  He  knew  the  secret  of  the  great  man,  tl?e 
Greek,  who  was  winning  millions  at  the  Sporting-Club. 
He  had  guessed  it,  with  his  own  cunning,  after  worming 
certain  data  out  of  a  man  who  accompanied  the  lofty 
personage.  It  was  a  simple  combination,  like  all  ideas 
of  genius.     For  example  .    .    . 

And  he  reached  for  a  pack  of  cards  which  was  on  the 


458  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

table,  lying  on  a  number  of  albums  bound  in  red:  The 
nine  Symphonies  of  Beethoven. 

"Oh  no — if  you  please!"  the  Prince  brusquely  re- 
strained him,  to  keep  him  from  plunging  into  that  mania 
for  demonstrating. 

"I  hoped  to  meet  Castro  here,"  he  said,  in  a  quiet  voice, 
a  moment  later. 

Spadoni  seemed  to  awaken, 

"Castro?  .  .  .  Oh,  yes!  He  lived  with  me  for  a 
few  days,  but  he  went  away." 

Still  obsessed  by  his  marvelous  combination,  he  talked 
in  an  absent-minded  manner  without  showing  the  slight- 
est interest  in  what  he  was  saying.  Castro  had  expressed 
a  desire  to  live  with  him;  he  had  told  him  so,  late  one 
afternoon  in  the  Casino,  and  Spadoni  -had  left  Villa  Si- 
rena  to  accompany  him.  It  was  the  least  a  friend  could 
do! 

"But  when  did  he  go?    Where  is  he?" 

"He  went  day  before  yesterday,  and  must  be  in  Paris. 
A  fool  trip !  Imagine,  your  Highness,  during  the  last  few 
days  he  had  an  extraordinary  run  of  luck,  winning  as 
high  as  twenty  thousand  francs.  If  he  had  only  gone  on ! 
But  he  wouldn't !  He  was  in  a  hurry.  He  gave  me  five 
hundred  francs,  and  I  lost  them  immediately;  it  was 
very  little  money  for  my  combination.  I  think  he  was 
going  to  be  a  soldier;  he  kept  talking  to  me  about  the 
Foreign  Legion.  You  can  expect  almost  any  foolishness 
from  him.  A  man  who  is  winning  and  runs  away !    .    .    . " 

Then,  as  though  the  disordered  workings  of  his  brain 
were  functioning  logically  for  a  few  seconds,  he  added, 
with  a  smile  of  cunning : 

"Dona  Clorinda  also  went  to  Paris.  She  left  two  days 
before  him  .  .  .  Oh,  your  Highness!  How  I  think 
of  what  you  told  us  at  the  lunch  once  about  women !  I 
know  them,  Prince :    They  are  all  enemies  to  be  feared." 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  459 

And  he  pointed  spitefully  to  IV hat  the  Palm  Tree  said 
to  the  Century  Plant. 

In  vain  the  Prince  kept  questioning  him.  The  pianist 
did  not  know  anything  more,  and  Castro's  fate  did  not 
arouse  his  curiosity.  He  had  gone  to  Paris,  to  be  a  sol- 
dier, and  Spadoni  had  so  many  friends,  already,  who 
were  soldiers ! 

The  "General"  being  a  woman,  aroused  more  interest 
in  him ;  she  stimulated  his  love  of  gossip. 

*T  think,"  he  said,  with  a  smile  that  showed  his  hate 
for  women,  "that  she  went  away  out  of  jealousy,  out  of 
pique.  The  Duchess  de  Delille  took  that  Lieutenant  away 
from  her,  though  the  'General'  had  been  the  one  to  in- 
troduce them.  It  seems  even  that  this  Lieutenant  has 
had  a  duel  ..." 

The  pianist  grew  pale,  looking  at  Lubimoff  with  an  ex- 
pression of  terror.  His  look  was  like  that  of  a  person 
who  is  talking  aloud  when  he  imagines  himself  alone,  and 
then  suddenly  notices  that  some  one  is  listening  to  him. 
He  sat  there  embarrassed  and  stammering : 

"I  don't  know  .  .  .  people  tell  so  many  lies!  .  .  . 
Women's  gossip!" 

Lubimoff  felt  a  like  embarrassment  on  realizing  that 
even  Spadoni  had  taken  up  his  adventure  with  delight. 

He  felt  there  was  no  use  in  continuing  the  conversa- 
tion with  an  imbecile  like  that.  He  arose,  and  the  pian- 
ist, still  trembling  at  his  own  indiscretion,  showed  similar 
signs  of  haste  to  end  the  visit. 

"And  Novoa  ?"  asked  the  Prince  on  reaching  the  outer 
door.    "Has  he  also  left?" 

No;  he  was  still  in  Monaco,  working  at  the  Museum, 
when  he  did  not  have  any  more  urgent  business.  They 
met  very  seldom.  How  could  they  see  each  other  if  he, 
Spadoni,  on  account  of  his  poverty,  refrained  from  enter- 
ing the  gambling  rooms  ? 


46o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"He  goes  on  playing,  your  Highness ;  but  very  badly, 
with  the  timidity  of  a  novice,  and  for  that  reason  he  loses. 
He  isn't  made  of  the  same  stuff  that  we  are,  we  who  are 
true  gamblers." 

And  the  pianist  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  as 
he  said  this,  as  though  he  had  never  lost  and  possessed 
all  the  secrets  of  chance. 

*'I  sent  him  two  tickets  for  this  afternoon's  concert: 
one  for  him  and  the  other  for  that  Senorita  Valeria,  the 
Duchess's  companion.  Poor  man!  Always  doing  some- 
thing silly,  like  a  young  lover !" 

But  his  smile,  which  was  that  of  a  superior  person 
exempt  from  such  humiliations,  disappeared,  as  he  real- 
ized that  once  more  he  was  saying  something  offensive 
to  the  Prince, 

The  latter  passed  close  to  the  tomb  again,  but  without 
seeing  it,  or  even  remembering  the  unknown  General, 
Castro  had  gone!  .  .  .  Castro  wanted  to  become  a 
soldier!  .    .    . 

After  going  down  along  the  Monegetti  road  as  far  as 
the  parade  ground  of  La  Condamine,  he  ascended  once 
more  the  gently  sloping  avenue  that  leads  up  to  Monaco. 
After  his  long  seclusion,  this  walk  aroused  a  certain 
pleasant  tingling  in  his  muscles. 

Finding  himself  between  the  two  turrets  that  mark  the 
entrance  to  the  gardens,  the  memory  of  Alicia  flashed 
across  his  brain.  There,  a  little  farther  on,  they  had 
gotten  out  of  their  carriage ;  behind  the  trees  was  a  bench 
on  which  he  first  had  told  her  of  his  love ;  below,  at  the 
edge  of  the  rocks,  lay  the  solitary  path  along  which  they 
had  passed  as  though  treading  on  air,  wrapped  in  the 
twilight  and  with  lips  joined.  Then,  had  come  the  tear- 
ing of  her  dress,  the  sweet  comical  difficulties  in  mending 
it,  and  the  pearl  pin  of  the  Princess.  .  .  .  Only  a  few 
weeks  had  passed,  and  these  happenings  seemed  to  be- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  461 

long  to  another  happier  race  of  beings,  to  have  taken 
place  on  a  different  planet,  bathed  in  a  light  that  was 
different  from  the  light  of  earth. 

He  made  an  effort  to  forget.  At  present  he  was  stand- 
ing on  an  asphalt  square,  opposite  the  steps  of  the  Mu- 
seum of  Oceanography,  For  the  first  time  he  noticed 
the  architectural  decorations  of  the  white  building.  They 
had  adopted  as  an  ornamental  motif  the  cluster  of  twist- 
ing arms  of  the  octopus,  the  semi-circular  striations  of 
sea-shells,  the  trailing  filmy  umbrella  form  of  the  jelly- 
fish. He  observed  the  sculptural  groups  symbolizing  the 
powers  of  the  Ocean,  or  the  arts  of  the  navigators,  he 
read  the  names  carved  on  the  frieze  of  the  edifice,  and 
the  titles  of  ships  famous  for  scientific  explorations. 

He  stood  there  motionless  for  a  long  time,  seeking  a 
pretext  to  justify  his  visit.  Finally  he  went  up  the  steps 
of  the  building,  and  found  himself  in  a  deep,  cool  shade 
like  that  of  a  Cathedral,  but  without  the  stale,  musty 
odor  of  shut-in  places,  and  with  a  whiff  of  salt  air  coming 
from  the  nearby  sea.  He  knew  the  stately  edifice:  on 
one  side  was  the  vast  hall  for  the  lectures  and  scientific 
assemblies,  like  that  of  a  parliament  building,  with  lamp 
shades  of  frosted  crystal  affecting  the  different  shapes  of 
animals  from  the  ocean  depths ;  in  the  middle  of  the  ves- 
tibule was  the  statue  of  Prince  Albert,  dressed  as  a 
sailor  and  leaning  on  the  rail  of  the  bridge  of  his  yacht; 
on  the  opposite  side  and  on  the  upper  floors,  were  the  col- 
lections gathered  during  the  voyages  of  the  famous  scien- 
tific explorer:  thousands  of  fishes  and  molluscs,  gigan- 
tic skeletons  of  whales,  some  kaiaks  and  fishing  imple- 
ments from  the  polar  seas.  On  the  lower  floors,  under 
his  feet,  in  that  second  palace  which,  clinging  to  the  cliff, 
descended  to  the  sea,  were  the  aquaria,  where  the  mys- 
terious creatures  of  the  depths  continued  their  lives  in 
crystal  cages  amid  the  silver  bubbles  of  running  water. 


462  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  gate-keeper  in  a  long  blue  coat'  and  a  kepis  with 
red  braid,  started  to  offer  him  a  ticket,  but  paused  on 
seeing  that  he  was  stopping  at  the  turn-stile,  asking  for 
Novoa. 

"He  went  out  a  moment  ago.  Perhaps  you  may  find 
him  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  palace.  Almost  every 
day,  before  lunch,  he  makes  the  rounds  of  'the  rock'." 

"The  Rock,"  for  the  inhabitants  of  Monaco,  is  the 
nickname  of  the  high  promontory  on  which  Monaco  is 
situated,  and  "to  make  the  rounds"  means  to  follow  the 
circle  of  gardens  and  abandoned  bulwarks,  which,  start- 
ing from  the  palace  of  the  Princes,  returns  to  it,  after 
completely  embracing  the  old  city. 

Lubimoff  followed  the  outer  Hne  of  the  San  Martino 
gardens.  He  did  not  dare  enter  them ;  he  was  afraid  of 
coming  across  the  bench  where  he  and  Alicia  had  been 
that  afternoon.  He  entered  the  City  streets,  narrow, 
without  sidewalks,  and  paved  with  wide  stones,  as  in 
many  towns  in  Italy. 

The  dwellings,  which  were  old  and  lofty,  recalled  the 
time  when  ground  was  precious  on  a  peninsula  narrowly 
enclosed  by  its  fortifications.  Some  of  the  houses  were 
pierced  by  tunnels  and  at  the  end  of  the  archway,  one 
could  see  the  sunlight  and  the  whiteness  of  the  next 
street.  The  largest  buildings  were  convents,  or  religious 
schools.  Above  the  roofs,  the  bells  slowly  tolled  as  in 
a  Spanish  village ;  in  the  streets  there  were  many  sacred 
images  lighted  by  tiny  lamps. 

When  the  paving  stones  resounded  with  human  foot- 
steps, the  shutters  all  opened  half  way.  A  carriage 
caused  many  heads  to  appear  at  the  windows.  The  few 
passersby  were  often  canons  from  the  cathedral.  Bare- 
foot Brothers  with  a  crown  of  hair  about  their  shaven 
scalps,  or  nuns  with  huge  starched  butterflies  on  their 
heads. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  463 

Only  a  little  door  separated  the  old  city  from  the  other 
situated  on  the  heights  opposite,  with  its  Casino,  its  ho- 
tels, its  orchestras,  and  its  wealthy  pleasure-loving  crowd. 
A  short  ride  by  street  car  was  sufficient  to  give  one  the 
illusion  of  having  suddenly  slipped  back  two  centuries. 
Lubimoff  recalled  the  expressions  of  surprise  awakened 
in  people  by  several  of  these  barefoot  brothers  crossing 
the  Casino  Square  on  their  way  down  to  Monte  Carlo. 

He  passed  under  a  covered  archway  that  joined  two 
houses.  A  large  open  space,  like  a  plain,  opened  in  front 
of  him.  It  was  the  Palace  Square.  Opposite  it  rose  the 
lordly  dwelling  of  the  Grimaldi,  a  jumble  of  buildings 
dating  back  to  different  periods,  which  recalled  the  pal- 
aces of  certain  sovereign  princes  in  ancient  Italy.  It  was 
of  a  dark  rose  color,  cut  by  the  Archway  of  the  Loggias, 
and  was  flanked  by  towers  of  white  stone  surmounted 
by  battlements.  He  knew  this  edifice  likewise.  It  was 
a  mere  show-place,  and  quite  uninhabited,  since  the 
Prince,  during  his  short  visits  to  his  domains,  preferred 
to  live  on  board  his  yacht. 

The  first  thing  that  attracted  his  attention  was  the 
guard.  The  soldiers  of  Monaco,  old  French  gendarmes, 
had  gone  to  the  war,  and  a  national  militia  was  taking  the 
place  of  the  Prince's  army.  It  was  composed  of  actual 
citizens  of  the  "Rock,"  where  citizens  must  be  descen- 
dants of  at  least  four  generations  resident  in  Monaco. 
They  alone  could  contribute  to  the  ideal  defense  of  the 
principality,  since  they  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  belong- 
ing to  a  country,  unique  in  the  world,  where  all  who  were 
born  there,  had  bread  and  work  assured  them,  thanks  to 
the  Casino. 

Lubimoff  admired  the  warlike  guard,  an  old  man  with 
a  white  mustache,  and  stooping,  almost  humped,  shoul- 
ders, dressed  in  a  dark  tan  overcoat  and  a  derby  hat.  A 
red  and  white  arm  band  was  his  entire  uniform.    On  his 


464  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

shoulder  he  carried  an  ancient  gun  which  because  of  its 
tremendously  long  bayonet  seemed  even  more  enormous 
and  heavy  than  it  was.  He  might  have  rested  beside  a 
sentry  box,  painted  with  the  Monaco  colors ;  but  he  pre- 
ferred to  pace  incessantly  up  and  down,  like  a  squirrel  in 
a  cage,  looking  in  every  direction  to  see  if  any  one  were 
trying  to  enter  the  palace  of  the  absent  sovereign.  Other 
men  who  were  fathers  and  even  grandfathers,  dressed  in 
their  Sunday  clothes,  were  patiently  waiting  on  a  bench 
for  their  turn  to  exercise  the  honorable  function. 

The  most  notable  thing  on  this  esplanade  was  the  ar- 
tillery, a  collection  of  XVHI  century  cannon  placed  there 
as  an  ornament,  like  the  panoplies  of  a  drawing  room. 
On  both  sides  of  the  entrance  to  the  palace  six  huge,  mag- 
nificent cannon,  cast  in  green  statue  bronze,  and  chiseled 
like  museum  pieces,  were  drawn  up  in  a  row.  Around 
their  mouths,  the  metal  curved  backward  forming  a  leafy 
design  like  that  of  a  capital  on  a  column;  the  other  end 
was  surmounted  by  a  Medusa's  head.  The  barrels  of 
these  hollow  columns  were  ornamented  with  the  three 
fleurs  de  lis  of  the  ancient  French  Monarchy ;  the  handles 
on  each  cannon  were  two  dolphins,  and  all  the  pieces  dis- 
played the  pretentious  motto :  Nee  plurihus  impar  of 
Louis  XIV,  with  another  more  somber  one :  Ultima  ratio 
regum. 

The  Prince  smiled  at  the  latter  motto. 

"These  days,  artillery,"  he  said  to  himself,  "is  no 
longer  'the  last  argument  of  kings',  but  it  is  of  peoples. 
We  have  progressed  somewhat." 

Each  of  these  green  cannon  had  its  own  name,  just  as 
a  ship  or  a  regiment.  One  was  named  Nero,  another 
Tiberius;  farther  on  Robust  and  the  Snorer  opened  their 
round  mouths. 

On  the  parapets  enclosing  the  large  square  on  both 
sides,  other  more  modest,  but  equally  huge  and  ancient 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  465 

cannon,  thrust  their  mouths  out  upon  the  harbor  or  the 
open  sea.  The  solid  balls  of  these  cannon  formed  pyra- 
mids, and  parasitical  vegetation  had  crept  in  between 
these  iron  spheres. 

Behind  the  palace,  like  the  back-drop  on  a  stage,  rose 
the  French  Mountain  of  the  Tete  du  Chien,  with  the  win- 
dows in  the  barracks  of  the  Blue  Devils,  the  Chasseurs 
Alpins,  gleaming  on  its  rounded  summit.  The  Monaco 
plateau  was  simply  the  lowest  step  in  the  great  stairway 
which  the  Alps  let  fall  to  the  sea.  Above,  clouds  were 
caught  amid  the  peaks,  covering  them  momentarily  with 
a  shadow  ominous  of  storm.  Below,  amid  the  rose-col- 
ored walls  and  the  white  towers  of  the  Grimaldi,  rose  the 
tropical  palms,  the  cocoanut  and  plantain  trees,  giving 
this  Ligurian  castle  the  luxurious  aspect  of  Brazilian 
farm. 

Lubimoff  was  seated  between  the  cannon,  on  the  para- 
pet that  overlooks  the  open  sea,  when  he  saw  Novoa 
strolling  along  the  bulwarks  that  rise  above  the  harbor. 

On  recognizing  the  Prince,  the  professor  hastened  for- 
ward with  outstretched  hands. 

How  likable  the  Professor  seemed!  His  frank  man- 
ners had  never  been  so  attractive  to  Michael  as  they  were 
then.  Novoa  was  greatly  pleased  at  this  meeting,  at- 
tributing it  to  chance,  and  the  Prince  did  not  see  fit  to 
mention  his  visit  to  the  Museum,  so  that  Novoa  would 
now  know  that  he  had  come  in  search  of  him. 

Mechanically  they  began  to  promenade  between  the 
row  of  guns  and  the  trees  that  cast  a  pallid  shade  on  one 
side  of  the  Square. 

It  was  Lubimoff  who  began  to  talk,  questioning  Novoa, 
showing  an  interest  in  his  affairs  and  greeting  his  laments 
with  a  kindly  smile. 

The  Professor  appeared  unhappy.  This  place  with  its 
gay,  pleasant  life  was  fatal  for  study.     To  think  that 


466  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

back  in  his  own  country,  he  had  imagined  himself  making 
useful  discoveries  in  the  mysteries  of  the  ocean !  The 
Casino  spread  its  influence  in  every  direction,  reaching 
even  the  Museum  of  Oceanography.  Often,  while  he 
was  studying  the  plancton,  a  new  idea  would  occur  to  him 
as  to  how  he  might  penetrate  the  mysterious  workings 
of  the  trente  et  quarante  series.  Mornings  he  worked  with 
his  thoughts  fixed  on  Monte  Carlo;  and  no  sooner  did 
afternoon  come,  than  he  felt  an  irresistible  desire  to  go 
there.  It  was  useless  for  him  to  invent  pretexts  to  re- 
main there  on  the  "Rock."  He  had  lost  sums  that  for 
him  were  enormous,  and  he  needed  to  get  them  back.  He 
was  worried  at  the  thought  of  the  money  he  had  received 
from  home  as  an  advance  payment  on  the  modest  for- 
tune inherited  from  his  parents. 

"Some  days,  common  sense  tells  me  that  I  ought  to 
return  to  Spain,  and  I  immediately  want  to  act  on  that 
good  advice.  Unfortunately  there  are  certain  things 
that  keep  me  here  and  shatter  my  will  power." 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Michael  smiling.  "First 
of  all,  there  is  love." 

Novoa  blushed,  and  then  accepted  the  words  of  the 
Prince  with  a  comic  look  of  embarrassment.  Yes ;  there 
was  something  in  that,  but  love  had  its  disillusionments, 
the  same  as  gambling. 

Lubimoff  suddenly  saw  in  his  eyes  an  expression  like 
that  of  Spadoni's.  He,  too,  knew  what  had  happened, 
and  in  speaking  of  love  immediately  recalled  that  absurd 
duel.  But  Novoa  was  a  different  person,  incapable  of 
feeling  the  malign  pleasure  of  gossips,  who  rejoice  in 
other  people's  shortcomings.  Besides,  Michael  felt  that 
he  was  very  frank,  and  was  immediately  convinced  of 
this.  Quietly,  without  thinking  whether  or  not  his 
words  might  annoy  the  other  man,  the  Professor  alluded 
to  what  had  occurred  at  Lewis'  castle.    He  lamented  it 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  467 

as  something  illogical  and  untimely,  but  had  not  ceased 
to  be  interested  in  the  affairs  of  the  Prince  on  that 
account.  If  he  had  refrained  from  going  to  Villa  Sirena, 
it  was  in  order  not  to  seem  forward.  He  had  often 
talked  with  the  Colonel,  asking  him  to  take  his  best 
wishes  to  the  Prince. 

Then,  as  though  repenting  the  severity  with  which  he 
had  judged  the  duel,  he  hastened  to  explain.  The  image 
of  Castro  passed  through  his  mind,  causing  him  to  look 
at  his  comrade  with  brotherly  tolerance. 

'T  can  understand  a  great  many  things.  I  am  not  a 
fighting  man  like  you,  and  nevertheless,  I  once  felt  a 
desire  to  fight.  At  present  I  laugh  when  I  think  of  it; 
but,  in  similar  circumstances,  I  would  do  the  same  again. 
What  power  women  have  over  us !  How  they  change 
us!" 

The  Prince  did  not  protest  on  hearing  that  Novoa  sup- 
posed him  to  be  in  love,  attributing  the  duel  to  a  woman's 
influence.  And  he  continued  to  remain  silent,  while 
the  Professor,  through  a  logical  association  of  ideas,  be- 
gan to  talk  about  Alicia.  The  kindly  simple  savant 
showed  a  keen  satisfaction  in  telling  certain  news  which 
he  thought  would  please  Lubimoff. 

He  felt  a  similar  interest  in  his  compatriot,  Martinez. 
He  did  not  hate  any  one.  He  had  even  forgotten  the 
disagreements  with  Castro,  which  had  caused  him  to 
leave  the  comfort  and  plenty  of  Villa  Sirena. 

"That  poor  Lieutenant  is  less  fortunate  than  you, 
Prince :  this  duel  has  been  rather  hard  on  him.  I  enjoy  a 
certain  intimacy  with  people  who  are  close  to  the  Duchess 
de  Delille.  ...  I  do  not  need  to  say  any  more :  you  un- 
derstand that  I  am  in  a  position  to  know  what  is  going  on 
in  the  Villa  Rosa.  Well,  then;  since  the  duel,  I  don't 
know  what  has  happened,  but  Martinez  calls  at  that  house 
less  frequently.     Whole  days  go  by  without  his  daring 


468  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

to  ring  at  the  door.  Sometimes  he  goes  there,  and  a  per- 
son whom  you  know  tells  me  that  the  Duchess  refuses  to 
see  him.  At  present  he  is  a  mere  visitor,  a  friend  like  any 
other.  The  Duchess  is  anxious  to  avoid  their  former 
intimacy;  she  continues  to  send  him  little  gifts  at  the 
Officers'  Hotel,  and  to  look  after  his  comfort.  She 
sends  the  young  lady  who  is  a  friend  of  mine  to  find  out 
if  he  needs  anything,  but  she  receives  him  only  at  rare 
intervals.  The  lunches  and  dinners  each  day  have  come 
to  an  end,  with  that  life  in  common,  which  would  have 
been  complete  if  he  had  slept  in  the  house.  And  the  poor 
boy  seems  sad,  and  full  of  despair  at  this  change." 

The  Professor  was  encouraged  in  his  confidences  on 
noting  the  pleasure  with  which  the  Prince  received  them. 

"A  certain  person,"  he  continued,  after  some  hesita- 
tion, "who  has  spent  several  nights  in  the  street  where 
the  Duchess  lives — the  deuce,  a  certain  person!  Why 
shouldn't  I  tell  the  whole  truth — I,  who  sometimes  spend 
hours  in  the  neighborhood  of  Villa  Rosa,  waiting  for 
the  young  lady  in  question,  have  surprised  Martinez  near 
the  house,  slinking  by  close  to  the  gate,  looking  at  the 
windows.  Poor  boy !  And  they  tell  me  that  during  the 
day  time,  when  he  is  afraid  that  the  Duchess  won't  re- 
ceive him,  he  goes  by  ther^  just  the  same." 

Lubimoff  was  stirred  by  a  double  feeling :  one  of  rage, 
at  the  conviction  that  he  had  made  no  mistake :  that  little 
soldier  boy  was  in  love  with  Alicia ;  and  one  of  delight 
on  learning  that  he  was  not  received  in  the  house,  as 
before,  and  was  hovering  about  the  neighborhood  in  vain. 
It  was  a  negative  sort  of  joy  for  him,  but  joy  at  any 
event,  to  see  that  youth  in  a  situation  like  his  own. 

Novoa,  being  a  man  of  simple  tastes,  could  not  under- 
stand love  except  under  conventional  circumstances,  and 
between  people  of  similar  ages;  and  he  laughed  at  this 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  469 

passion  of  the  officer,  as  though  it  were  something  ex- 
ceedingly amusing. 

"How  absurd !  To  fall  in  love  like  that  with  a  woman 
old  enough  to  be  his  mother !" 

The  Prince  started  on  hearing  this,  looking  fixedly  at 
his  companion.  No ;  the  Professor  had  discovered  noth- 
ing. He  was  laughing  at  his  own  reflections,  without 
any  indirect  insinuations.  No  one  but  Lubimoff  himself 
could  possibly  know  AHcia's  real  secret. 

They  walked  back  and  forth  several  times  between  the 
cannon  and  the  trees.  Suddenly,  the  bells  of  the  churches 
and  convents  in  Monaco,  began  to  ring,  answering, 
through  the  luminous  atmosphere,  those  of  the  Monte 
Carlo  frontier. 

Twelve  o'clock!  Novoa  became  restless.  He  was  a 
man  of  fixed  habits,  and  besides,  the  Monaco  people  at 
whose  house  he  was  living  were  absolutely  punctual  in 
their  meal  hours.  To  think  that  there  was  not  a  res- 
taurant in  Monaco,  where  for  once  he  could  be  extrava- 
gant and  invite  the  Prince !  The  latter  proposed  that  he 
accompany  him  to  the  far-off  Villa  Sirena  to  lunch  to- 
gether. It  was  so  peasant  to  be  in  his  company!  He 
gave  him  such  interesting  news! 

"Impossible !"  the  Professor  hastened  to  say.  "I  must 
see  some  one  in  Monte  Carlo  as  soon  as  I  finish  my  lunch. 
They  will  wait  for  me." 

And  the  Prince  did  not  insist,  guessing  that  the  person 
referred  to  was  Valeria. 

A  single  carriage  had  taken  refuge  in  the  pale  shade 
of  the  trees.  It  had  remained  there  after  bringing  some 
tourists  who,  on  coming  out  of  the  Museum,  preferred 
to  return  on  foot  by  the  ancient  path  along  the  forti- 
fications. 

Michael  got  into  it,  and  drove  to  Villa  Sirena. 


470  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

The  rest  of  the  day  and  a  great  part  of  the  night 
passed  very  pleasantly  for  him.  He  was  going  over  and 
over  in  his  memory  the  news  he  had  just  heard.  It  had 
not  been  a  bad  day.  He  scarcely  remembered  Castro. 
Castro  was  in  Paris ;  that  was  the  one  thing  certain.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  misfortune  of  Martinez  made  him 
hum  gaily  to  himself,  and  this  unusual  good  humor 
quite  deceived  the  Colonel. 

"All  I  say  is,  Your  Highness  ought  to  go  out,  and 
see  people.  I  was  sure  that  to-day's  walk  would  do 
you  a  world  of  good." 

The  following  day,  the  Prince  had  an  even  pleasanter 
surprise.  He  had  finished  his  lunch,  when  his  valet  an- 
nounced ceremoniously:  "Dr.  Novoa,  the  professor,  to 
see  you,  sir." 

Michael,  having  a  presentiment  that  it  meant  some- 
thing very  interesting  for  him,  received  the  Spaniard 
with  extraordinary  effusion,  such  as  Toledo  had  never 
seen  before.  "Awfully  good  of  you  to  come,  Novoa !  You 
don't  mean  to  say  you  have  had  your  lunch  already? 
What  a  regular  life  you  Monaco  bachelors  lead!  Well, 
at  least,  you'll  have  coffee  with  me?" 

And  the  Prince  hasjily  finished  his  lunch  and  went 
into  the  salon,  where  coffee  and  liqueurs  were  waiting. 
The  impatience  of  the  visitor  to  talk  with  him  privately 
was  so  obvious,  that  Lubimoff  hastened  to  invent  an  ex- 
cuse for  Don  Marcos  to  go  away. 

When  they  were  alone,  Novoa  left  his  cup  on  the 
little  table,  took  several  puffs  at  his  cigar,  as  though 
to  summon  all  his  strength  of  will,  and  finally  said  in 
a  resolute  voice : 

"I  have  a  message  to  give  you:  a  certain  person  sent 
me  here  .  .  .  and  I  suspect  that  I  am  playing  a  rather 
cheap  role.  A  man  like  myself  doing  such  errands  as 
this !  .  .  .  Besides,  men  ought  to  help  one  another.    You 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  471 

who  are  a  real  gentleman,  may  perhaps  consent  to  do 
something  for  me  .  .  ." 

And  the  good  Professor  talked  as  though  he  felt  him- 
self united  with  the  Prince  by  a  sort  of  professional 
comradeship,  by  being  in  the  same  condition. 

Lubimofif,  anxious  to  know  the  message,  gave  a  look 
of  acquiescence.  Yes:  it  was  true;  he  was  capable  of 
doing  anything  for  him  that  he  might  ask.  At  that 
moment  he  felt  the  savant  his  best  friend.  But  what  was 
the  message? 

Novoa  continued,  with  a  certain  hesitation.  The  day 
before,  after  his  meeting  with  the  Prince,  he  had  seen 
that  young  lady  .  .  .  that  young  lady  who  is  a  companion 
to  the  Duchess.  He  had  told  her  everything;  a  bad 
habit  he  had,  but  lovers  cannot  always  talk  about  them- 
selves. 

"We  were  together  at  a  concert,  and  this  morning  she 
came  to  the  Museum  to  tell  me  to  see  you  immediately. 
I  refused  at  first  to  take  the  message,  but  you  know 
what  women  are.  Besides,  the  young  woman  has  a  mind 
of  her  own.  To  make  it  short,  here  I  am  repeating  what 
I  was  told." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  after  looking  all 
around,  he  added,  in  a  mysterious  voice: 

"This  afternoon,  at  St.  Charles." 

On  his  way  there  Novoa  had  been  worried  by  the  ob- 
scurity of  the  message.  What  St.  Charles  was  it?  A 
hotel?  A  promenade?  As  a  resident  of  Monaco,  the 
Professor  knew  only  the  Casino  in  Monte  Carlo.  The 
one  thing  certain  in  his  mind  was  that  Valeria's  mes- 
sage came  from  the  Duchess. 

Michael  made  an  effort  to  hide  the  joy  which  these 
words  gave  him.  Alicia  was  looking  for  him !  In  spite  of 
his  satisfaction  he  felt  a  need  of  asking  for  fresh  de- 
tails.   Hadn't  Novoa  been  told  the  time  ? 


472  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"No,  Prince.  'This  afternoon,  at  St.  Charles';  not 
another  word  more.  The  young  lady  almost  became 
angry  because  I  asked  her  to  make  it  clearer.  I  told 
you  that  when  we  are  by  ourselves  she  can  be  cross — 
like  all  the  rest.  She  told  me  that  you  would  under- 
stand the  message  at  once." 

Lubimoff  nodded  in  affirmation;  yes,  he  understood. 
What  a  nice  fellow  the  scientist  was !  At  that  moment 
he  wished  him  every  sort  of  happiness  that  men  can 
enjoy.  If  he  had  not  known  Novoa's  scruples  and  his 
pride,  he  would  have  asked  Don  Marcos  for  all  the 
money  there  was  in  the  house,  to  hand  it  to  him  in  hand- 
fuls.  But  since  a  material  gift  was  quite  out  of  the 
question,  he  expressed  the  hope  that  Valeria,  whom 
he  had  always  considered  an  ambitious  climber,  would 
bring  happiness  and  beauty  into  the  Professor's  life. 
His  satisfaction  made  him  so  optimistic  that  he  even 
believed  that  he  had  been  mistaken  in  regard  to  her,  and 
he  endowed  the  Duchess'  companion  with  a  great  number 
of  hidden  virtues, 

Toledo  had  returned,  and  the  Prince,  who  wanted  to 
please  Novoa,  talked  to  him  about  Oceanographic  ex- 
plorations, displaying  a  lively  curiosity  in  his  questions, 
though  his  thoughts  were  far  away. 

But  this  attempt  at  flattery  was  wasted.  The  Professor 
replied  to  his  questions  with  hesitation.  He  was  in  a 
hurry;  some  one  was  waiting  for  him  .  .  .  doubtless 
Valeria  needed  to  know  the  result  of  his  errand  at  once. 
And  the  Prince  also  displayed  a  certain  haste  in  accom- 
panying him  to  the  gate,  with  the  greatest  possible  show 
of  friendliness.  He  must  return  often  to  Villa  Sirena; 
he  was  his  one  real  friend.  What  a  pity  he  refused 
to  live  there,  as  he  had  formerly! 

When  Lubimoff  found  himself  alone,  he  went  upstairs 
to  his  rooms  on  the  second  floor.     He  was  afraid  the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  475 

Colonel  would  guess  the  cause  of  his  satisfaction,  A 
sensation  of  pride  and  triumph  mingled  now  with  the 
joy  of  the  first  moment. 

He  thought  of  his  situation,  Don  Marcos  had  re- 
mained silent  since  the  duel,  and  he,  himself,  a  prey 
to  loneliness,  had  been  in  the  depths  of  despair,  im- 
agining himself  the  laughing-stock  of  every  one. 

Now  he  could  see  things  clearly,  Alicia  wanted  to 
come  back  to  him.  She  had  fallen  in  love  with  him 
again.  Everything  showed  that:  the  Lieutenant  prac- 
tically expelled  from  the  house,  which  two  weeks  before 
he  had  considered  as  his  own ;  and  his  former  pro- 
tectress avoiding  him,  so  that  his  visits  were  becoming 
rare.  Doubtless,  on  learning  through  Valeria  that  her 
former  lover  had  voluntarily  left  his  retirement  in  Villa 
Sirena,  she  was  hastening  to  make  an  immediate  ap- 
pointment with  him  in  haste  to  resume  their  former  re- 
lations. 

He  congratulated  himself  on  his  unexplainable  aggres- 
siveness which  had  impelled  him  to  offend  Martinez.  He, 
who,  in  the  last  few  days  had  repented  of  that  mad  af- 
fair! What  had  weighed  upon  him  like  remorse,  was 
perhaps  the  most  sensible  and  opportune  act  of  his  life. 
Alicia,  seeing  that,  mad  with  jealousy,  he  was  doing 
something  which  many  people  considered  absurd,  fight- 
ing for  her  sake,  doubtless  felt  flattered  in  her  vanity, 
and  was  looking  upon  him  now  with  new  interest. 

"Oh,  these  women!"  thought  Lubimoflf.  "You've  got 
to  know  them.  They  have  an  instinctive  admiration  for 
the  strong.  There  is  nothing  like  an  act  of  brutality  at 
the  right  moment  to  conquer  them.  They  take  a  certain 
joy  in  yielding  to  a  man  who  impresses  them  by  vio- 
lence." 

This  had  been  his  first  happy  moment  in  many,  many 
days.    Once  more  he  was  the  Prince  Lubimoff  who  had 


474  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

always  had  his  way,  triumphing  on  obstacles,  sometimes 
with  his  money,  but  more  often  with  his  imperious  pride. 

Satisfied  with  his  rough  strength,  he  felt  the  need  of 
making  himself  handsome  before  keeping  the  engage- 
ment. He  was  thinking  of  the  males  of  the  animal  king- 
dom, who  in  addition  to  teeth,  claws,  and  spurs,  have 
combs,  manes,  and  plumage  to  fall  back  on  when  it  comes 
to  inspire  a  sort  of  mystic  slavish  admiration  in  the 
females.  It  was  the  same  among  human  beings.  Educa- 
tion, laws,  and  traditions  do  nothing  but  disguise  the 
barbaric  foundations  of  human  nature. 

His  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  something  which 
worried  him.  At  what  time  should  he  appear  at  the 
place  indicated.  It  occurred  to  him,  that  as  no  hour  was 
mentioned,  it  must  be  the  same  as  that  of  the  previous 
meeting  at  the  door  of  St.  Charles.  But  he  finally  was 
convinced  that  the  Professor  had  forgotten  something, 
and  his  uneasiness  made  him  keep  the  engagement  much 
earlier. 

He  spent  more  than  three  hours  waiting  anxiously, 
wandering  about  the  streets  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
church,  standing  motionless  at  the  corners,  and  changing 
from  one  place  to  another  on  noticing  the  curiosity  of  the 
passersby.  He  entered  St.  Charles  several  times,  and 
was  always  greeted  by  the  same  sight:  the  multi-colored 
stained  glass  windows  growing  paler  and  paler,  as  the 
daylight  waned,  the  clusters  of  flags,  the  altar  pieces 
breaking  the  shadow  with  the  dull  splendor  of  their 
gold  background,  and  women  kneeling  and  motionless ; 
women  who  seemed  the  same  as  on  the  other  occasion, 
as  though  weeks  had  been  minutes. 

With  the  superstitious  feeling  of  those  who  wait,  he 
said  to  himself  that  Alicia  surely  would  not  appear  until 
nightfall,  and  the  day  seemed  endless  to  him. 

As  night  came  on  he  began  to  doubt. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  475 

"She  won't  come.     She  must  have  repented." 

He  was  standing  on  the  corner  of  a  curved  and  sloping 
street  adjoining  the  church.  From  there  he  could  observe 
the  steps  leading  to  the  little  square  with  the  sunken 
boulevard.  No  one  climbed  them ;  all  the  carriages 
passed  without  stopping. 

Suddenly,  he  had  a  sensation  that  some  one  was  ap- 
proaching from  behind.  He  heard  a  light  step,  and  on 
turning  his  head,  he  saw  a  woman  in  mourning. 

Suddenly  recovering  his  triumphant  joy,  he  forgot 
everything:  his  long  wait,  his  doubts  and  the  fatigue  of 
standing  there  in  endless  expectation.  He  was  so  sure 
of  the  motive  which  had  induced  her  to  ask  for  this  inter- 
view, that  he  went  forward  to  meet  her  with  chivalrous 
cordiality. 

"Oh,  Alicia !"  he  said,  holding  out  both  hands  at  once. 

But  his  hands  clutched  unavailingly  at  empty  space, 
without  finding  anything  to  take  hold  of,  and  finally 
dropped  in  dismay. 

Lubimoflf  felt  disconcerted  at  the  expression  on  the 
woman's  face.  All  the  ideas  that  had  been  with  him  until 
that  moment  were  so  many  illusions.  They  vanished  in 
an  instant,  leaving  him  dismayed  face  to  face  with 
reality.  Of  that  reality  there  coud  be  no  doubt.  There 
was  a  look  of  hardness  in  the  eyes  that  surveyed  him 
fixedly. 

Alicia  spoke  rapidly,  as  though  she  had  come  on  a 
matter  of  business  with  a  person  rather  distasteful  to  her 
and  wanted  to  end  it  as  soon  as  possible,  and  be  rid  of  his 
presence. 

There  was  a  money  matter  between  them  which  had 
to  be  settled.  She  had  not  written  to  him  because,  since 
certain  recent  happenings,  she  felt  a  letter  was  inadvis- 
able. Besides,  she  could  neither  go  to  Villa  Sirena,  nor 
receive  him  at  her  home.    For  that  reason,  on  hearing  the 


476  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

day  before  that  Michael,  whom  she  imagined  ill,  had  been 
seen  taking  a  walk,  she  had  boldly  made  an  appointment 
Avith  him  there,  so  that  they  might  see  each  other  for 
a  few  moments.    That  was  all. 

"Let  us  talk  like  business  men ;  business  men  who 
are  in  a  hurry  and  do  not  waste  words.  I  owe  you  some 
money  and  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  have  any  peace  of 
mind  until  I  return  it  to  you :  three  hundred  thousand 
francs  which  your  mother  gave  me,  and  what  you  lent  me 
in  the  Casino — perhaps  something  more.  I  have  enough 
to  pay  you.  If  you  don't  care  to  take  the  matter  up,  send 
me  Toledo." 

Lubimoff  stood  there  dumbfounded  at  these  unex- 
pected words.  After  making  this  proposal,  she  seemed 
anxious  to  get  away.  Now  she  had  said  all  she  had  to 
say ;  it  annoyed  her  to  remain  there  with  the  Prince ; 
she  had  nothing  to  add. 

"No !"  said  Michael  energetically. 

So  that  was  why  she  had  called  him?  And  that  was 
all  she  had  to  say  to  him,  after  they  had  been  separated 
for  so  long? 

His  refusal  was  so  resolute,  and  his  pained  surprise 
was  reflected  in  his  features  in  such  a  manner,  that  Alicia 
felt  it  useless  to  insist. 

"Very  well;  let's  not  say  anything  more.  I  know 
your  character,  and  I  know  that  we  would  stay  here 
arguing  for  hours  without  any  result.  I  shall  try  and 
find  a  way  to  return  what  belongs  to  you.  Good-by, 
Michael !" 

The  Prince  tried  to  stop  her  by  gently  taking  one  of 
her  hands,  but  she  withdrew  it  with  a  nervous  gesture 
of  repulsion. 

"And  you  are  going  away !"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  deep 
discouragement. 

The    humility   in    his    voice    seemed    to   irritate   the 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  477 

Duchess,  causing  her  to  stop  as  she  was  turning 
away. 

"What  did  you  think?"  she  asked  indignantly.  "I  am 
surprised  at  your  self -absorption,  your  failure  to  think 
of  other  people.  Michael !  Michael !  You'll  always  be 
the  same ;  you  don't  consider  any  one  but  yourself :  noth- 
ing counts  but  your  own  desires.  You've  hurt  me  so 
much !  And  now  you  say  like  a  child :  'And  you  are  going 
away  .  .  .'  What,  pray,  did  you  expect  after  your 
despicable  conduct  ?  I  want  you  to  realize  it  once  for  all : 
I  despise  you.  Your  presence  is  odious  to  me.  I  despise 
you !" 

Poor  Lubimoff  saw  his  conduct  once  more  as  he  had 
during  his  days  of  voluntary  confinement.  Alas  !  Where 
were  the  deceitful  dreams  that  had  cheered  him  until 
then?  His  sadness,  and  his  repentance  were  so  obvious 
that  Alicia  softened  the  tone  of  her  words. 

"Perhaps  despise  is  not  the  word;  but  I  am  sure  that 
you  fill  me  with  pity;  pity  much  like  that  which  I  feel 
for  myself.  We  are  two  poor,  mad  creatures,  Michael: 
our  misfortunes  have  followed  us  a  long  way." 

Recalling  their  lives,  Alicia  thought  of  builders  who 
make  a  serious  mistake  in  putting  in  the  foundation  of 
a  building,  and  go  on  raising  it,  imagining  that  their 
work  is  in  a  straight  line,  without  observing  that  it  is 
entirely  out  of  plumb,  owing  to  the  defect  in  its  base. 

"We  began  wrong.  If  the  world  had  gone  on  the 
same  as  before,  perhaps  we  would  have  been  able  to 
keep  on  our  feet  and  be  triumphant.  Our  surroundings 
sustained  us :  we  were  like  children." 

But  the  Universal  cataclysm  had  made  them  lose  their 
balance  forever.  They  were  toppling  over,  with  gaps 
that  could  never  be  brought  together,  ready  to  fall  in 
a  heap. 

"We  belong  to  another  period,  and  no  one  can  protect 


478  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

our  frailty.  I  feel  pity  for  you,  Michael ;  and  you  must 
feel  the  same  for  me,  for  me,  whom  you  have  wronged  so 
deeply!" 

The  Prince,  in  spite  of  his  dejected  humility,  protested. 
He  had  been  imprudent :  that  was  sure.  His  aggression 
in  the  Casino  and  the  miserable  duel  had  caused  a  stupid 
scandal  to  be  sure.  But  what  irreparable  harm  did  she 
mean,  that  caused  her  such  profound  sorrow?  How 
could  his  madness,  which  injured  him  only,  making  him 
the  object  of  comments  and  laughter,  cause  her  such  de- 
spair ? 

Alicia  interrupted  him  with  a  gesture  of  impatience, 
as  though  she  felt  it  impossible  to  make  him  understand 
her  thoughts. 

'*Look,"  she  said  pointing  to  the  church  door.  "Be- 
fore, I  could  go  in  there.  Remember  the  last  time  that 
we  saw  each  other  on  this  spot.  I  had  just  been  praying, 
and  talking  with  my  son;  it  was  an  illusion  perhaps; 
but  illusions  help  us  to  live.  And  now  it  is  impossible 
for  me ;  I  feel  remorse  where  before  I  found  hope.  And 
I  have  you  to  thank  for  this,  you  who  took  away  the 
last  consolation  that  I  had  invented  for  myself." 

She  no  longer  looked  at  the  Prince  with  hostile  gaze. 
Her  trembling  voice,  and  her  moist  eyes,  were  those  of 
a  poor  woman  making  an  effort  to  hide  her  emotion. 
Michael  stammered  in  embarrassment,  not  knowing  what 
to  do  or  say.  Had  he  really  been  able  to  do  her  such  an 
evil  turn?    When?    How? 

Alicia,  deaf  to  his  questions,  was  thinking  only  of 
herself  and  her  misfortune. 

"I  had  a  son,  and  I  lost  him,"  she  went  on  saying. 
"He  was  my  hope,  my  one  reason  for  living.  The  suf- 
fering made  me  look  for  consolation.  What  would  be- 
come of  us  if  we  did  not  have  the  power  of  deceiving 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  479 

ourselves  by  creating  new  illusions  ?  And  I  had  a  second 
son,  a  son  whom  I  invented,  sad,  condemned  to  die,  but 
young  like  the  other,  unfortunate  like  the  other,  and 
lacking  a  mother  to  bring  joy  to  his  last  days.  I  wanted 
to  be  that  mother.  I  can  feel  only  the  sweet,  protecting 
joy  of  maternity;  my  role  as  a  woman  is  over:  all  I  can 
see  in  a  man  is  a  son,  and  you  take  away  this  last  con- 
solation !    You  robbed  me  of  my  poor  joy !" 

Lubimoff  began  to  understand.  Alicia  was  talking 
about  Martinez;  and  he  felt  once  more  the  sting  of 
jealousy. 

"When  we  saw  each  other  here  the  last  time  I  had 
sought  a  quiet  refuge  within  my  sorrow.  I  was  praying 
for  my  son  in  the  church,  talking  with  him,  and  telling 
him  how  he  was  a  brother  in  misfortune  to  one  who 
was  still  alive,  but  who  perhaps  would  soon  go  to  join 
him.  Then,  on  returning  home  I  found  the  other,  and 
my  illusion  was  so  great,  that  I  was  able  to  fuse  them 
into  a  single  person,  imagining  that  time  and  the  war 
were  all  a  dream,  and  that  my  son  was  still  alive,  and 
had  returned  from  his  captivity  and  was  by  my  side. 
They  do  not  look  alike,  I  am  sure,  although  I  avoid  look- 
ing at  George's  pictures — but  they  seem  to  me  the  same ; 
it  is  the  uniform,  misfortune,  and  nearness  to  death. 
Besides,  the  poor  boy  was  so  good!  He  was  so  timid, 
satisfied  with  anything,  looking  at  me  with  the  sweet 
look  of  a  gentle  little  creature :  he  who  is  so  proud !  He 
venerated  me  like  a  being  descended  from  an  upper 
world.  I  was  his  mother.  His  words  and  looks  breathed 
a  feeling  of  deep  respect.  I  wasn't  a  woman  to  him: 
I  was  something  like  the  angels.  And  you,  with  your 
crazy  interference,  have  spoiled  it  all.  He  is  no  longer 
my  son :  my  dream  has  ended.  I  am  obliged  to  do  without 
his  presence,  and  it  is  only  at  rare  intervals  that  he  finds 
open  to  him  a  house  which  I  had  taught  him  to  consider 


48o  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

his  home.  Through  your  fault,  this  boy,  in  whom  I  saw 
a  son,  is  now  merely  a  man,  and  I,  his  mother,  have  be- 
come once  more  a  woman." 

Lubimoff's  features  became  dark  and  gloomy  with  an 
earthly  cast,  as  on  the  afternoon  of  the  duel.  He  was 
beginning  to  understand. 

"What  did  you  do,  Michael!"  she  continued  in  a  tear- 
ful voice.  "You  aroused  the  poor  boy  by  your  madness. 
On  fighting  you,  he  imagined  he  was  fighting  for  me, 
and  that  I  was  simply  a  woman.  He  saw  me  suddenly 
in  a  new  light,  as  though  he  had  been  asleep  until  then.  I 
might  almost  be  his  mother ;  for  women  of  my  class  pro- 
long their  youth,  preserve  it  artificially,  and  we  are  still 
desirable  when  women  of  the  lower  classes  are  already 
coming  to  old  age.  Besides,  I  understand  the  element 
of  vanity  in  his  admiration,  that  vanity  which  exists  in 
all  our  sentiments.  To  him  I  am  the  unknown,  the 
mysterious,  a  great  lady,  a  Duchess,  brought  by  these 
topsy-turvy  days  within  his  reach.  Poor  boy!  A  few 
weeks  ago  he  used  to  laugh  in  my  presence  with  child- 
like simplicity,  and  look  at  me  placidly,  without  the 
shadow  of  an  evil  thought  in  his  eyes.  He  was  happy, 
and  so  was  I;  while  now  ...   !" 

The  Prince  pictured  Martinez  pursuing  Alicia  with 
his  amorous  desires.  "I'll  kill  him :  I  must  kill  him,"  he 
said  to  himself.  But  this  homicidal  anger  lasted  only  an 
instant.  The  various  scenes  of  the  duel  passed  through 
his  mind :  a  vision  of  himself  kissing  the  officer's  hand,  in 
a  sudden  burst  of  unexplainable  humility,  which  kept 
returning  to  torment  him  like  remorse.  What  could  he 
do  now?  After  what  had  happened  there  was  some- 
thing sacred  about  the  man.  And  once  more  he  gave 
himself  up  to  his  despair,  while  Alicia  went  on  talking. 

"My  dream  is  dead.  My  son  has  become  my  son  once 
tnore,  and  Martinez  is  a  man  like  any  other.    At  present 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  481 

it  is  impossible  for  me  to  pray;  I  am  ashamed  to  hold 
imaginary  conversation  with  my  real  son.  I  am  assailed 
by  thoughts  of  what  I  told  him ;  I  am  overwhelmed  when 
I  think  that  I  go  on  talking  with  the  other  boy,  in  spite 
of  what  he  has  said  to  me,  of  what  I  read  in  his  glances, 
and  of  what  I  know  of  his  real  desires.  What  a  wrong 
you  have  done  me !  I  lost  one  son,  and  can  think  of  him 
only  with  remorse;  I  invented  another,  and  you  have 
taken  him  away  from  me." 

Then,  as  though  complaining  of  some  superior  force 
that  had  presided  over  her  destiny,  she  added: 

"What  torture !  Not  to  be  able  to  know  quiet  friend- 
ship, and  the  tranquil  days  of  maternity.  Always  to  have 
love  looming  up  in  front  of  one !  In  my  younger  days 
I  considered  that  the  one  aim  of  life  was  to  inspire  ad- 
miration and  desire,  and  now  I  am  punished  for  that 
indeed.  I  sought  in  you  a  sustaining  friendship,  and 
you  immediately  desired  me.  I  tried  to  deceive  my  ma- 
ternal longings  by  caring  for  an  unfortunate  boy  who 
may  die  very  soon,  and  this  son  of  my  affections  talked 
to  me  of  love.  Is  it  true  that  women  are  never  able  to 
enjoy  the  peace  and  confidence  that  come  to  men  quite 
naturally  ?" 

The  Prince  expressed  his  wishes,  with  eagerness  and 
hatred  in  his  voice. 

"Don't  see  him:  break  with  him;  close  your  door  to 
him  forever.  In  that  way  you  will  recover  your  peace 
of  mind,  and  I  ...  I  shall  be  your  friend,  I  shall  be 
anything  you  desire,  it  will  be  enough  for  me  that  I  see 
you." 

She  greeted  his  last  words  with  a  look  of  incredulity. 
Men  had  promised  her  so  often  to  be  friends !  Besides, 
she  knew  Michael  very  well,  and  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  reply.  The  one  thing  that  interested  her  was  his 
advice  that  she  definitely  reject  the  wounded  man,  and 


482  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

not  see  him  any  more.    Once  more  her  eyes  grew  moist. 

"Imagine  driving  the  poor  boy  away !  There  are  cer- 
tain things  you  can't  understand ;  you  try  to  order  affec- 
tions about  in  the  same  arrogant  way  that  you  formerly 
disposed  of  people.  Do  you  think  I  can  abandon  him? 
I  am  his  mother  in  spite  of  everything,  and  you  know 
very  well  how  a  mother  tolerates  and  forgives  things.  The 
poor  boy  is  not  to  blame  for  his  evil  thoughts ;  it  was 
you  who  suggested  them  to  him.  Besides,  it  won't  last ; 
I  have  hopes  that  his  foolish  desires  will  die  out." 

The  idea  of  deserting  the  crippled  soldier  aroused  her 
pity,  giving  an  amorous  tone  to  her  words. 

"What  would  become  of  him!  He  doesn't  know  any 
one  :  he  is  alone  in  the  world ;  the  other  officers  are  living, 
in  their  native  land,  they  have  families.  Before,  he  could 
go  and  see  Clorinda;  now  'the  General'  has  gone  away, 
and  I  am  the  only  one  who  remains,  the  only  one !  And 
you  want  me  to  forget  him?  You  don't  know  him  very 
well;  you  are  an  enemy  of  his.  It  is  such  a  delight  for 
me  to  recall  the  period  of  his  innocence.  He  was  like  my 
son ;  no ;  there  was  something  more  about  him ;  a  thank- 
fulness, a  capacity  for  veneration  concentrated  entirely 
on  me,  such  as  I  had  never  known  before.  You  forget 
how  his  life  hangs  on  a  thread.  Nor  does  he  realize  it 
himself;  he  does  not  know  the  real  situation  he  is  in; 
he  has  illusions  of  healthy  youth ;  he  thinks  he  will  live 
for  many  years.  Poor  fellow !  How  hard  it  is  for  me  to 
pretend  that  I  am  angry,  to  reject  him  with  indignation 
because  of  the  desires  he  feels  for  me  .  .  .  me,  who 
only  want  to  be  his  mother !" 

This  tone  of  sweet  pity  wounded  her  listener.  Alicia 
seemed  to  feel  the  remorse  of  a  death  watch  obliged  to 
deny  a  condemned  criminal  the  satisfaction  of  his  last 
whim.  She  was  lamenting  like  a  nurse  who  cannot  give  a 
dying  man  what  he  asks  for  in  his  last  gasps. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  483' 

Michael  felt  that  he  guessed  the  secret  of  the  last  inter- 
views between  this  pseudo-mother  and  her  adopted  son. 
Perhaps  she  talked  to  him  about  his  health,  momentarily 
refusing  to  flatter  him  in  his  illusions  of  health,  revealing 
to  him  the  danger  to  which  his  life  was  exposed ;  and  he, 
in  a  suicidal  ardor  of  passion,  was  perhaps  entreating 
her  like  a  child  who  has  placed  all  his  dreams  in  a  toy : 
"once,  just  once." 

He  was  convinced  that  this  was  the  truth  of  the  matter. 
He  read  it  in  her  eyes,  which  in  turn  seemed  to  guess 
what  the  Prince  was  thinking,  and  she  blushed  slightly. 

"What  harm  you  have  done  me/'  she  repeated.  "I 
must  send  him  away  from  me,  and  I  can't  bear  to  desert 
him.  It  would  be  a  crime  if  I  abandoned  him  to  his 
fate.  You  don't  know  what  this  constant  struggle  means 
to  me.  At  times  I  see  him  hovering  around  my  house; 
hidden  behind  the  window  blinds,  I  look  at  him,  and  I 
can  hardly  repress  my  tears.  He  seems  so  sad!  I  re- 
member my  son,  who  also  lived  alone,  even  more  friend- 
less than  he,  and  who  perhaps  became  interested  in  some 
woman,  anxiously  desiring  many  things  without  suc- 
ceeding in  possessing  them,  and  I  feel  a  desire  to  call 
to  him,  to  shout :  'Since  that  is  your  dream,  my  dear  child, 
your  last  wish  in  life,  take  it!  Take  it,  and  be  happy!' 
Yet  I  think  of  his  health,  I  think  of  many  other  things, 
and  I  restrain  my  impulse,  and  weep,  letting  him  wander 
about  near  my  house,  imagining  himself  forgotten, 
though  I  am  thinking  of  him  all  the  time.  Alas!  May 
God  give  me  strength !  May  I  not  lose  my  self  control ! 
May  I  continue  to  resist  my  absurd  charitableness !  Some- 
times I  fear  I  won't." 

"Oh,  Alicia!" 

The  Prince  uttered  the  words  in  a  tone  of  desperation. 
His  presentiment  was  becoming  a  reality;  he  could  al- 
ready see  that  dying  youth  possessing  what  he  had  not 


484  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

been  able  to  obtain.  There  was  a  look  of  homicidal  anger 
in  his  eyes. 

This  hostile  expression  annoyed  Alicia,  making  another 
woman  of  her.  The  harsh  look  and  the  cutting  tones 
which  had  accompanied  her  arrival  appeared  in  her  once 
more. 

"Enough  said.  I  came  here  to  return  your  money. 
You  refuse  to  take  it?  You  refuse?  Very  well,  I  will 
find  a  way  to  make  you.    Good  night,  Michael !" 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  night  had  fallen,  and  the  Prince 
saw  her  disappear  in  the  shadows  of  the  street  whence 
she  had  come :  a  street  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  blue 
street  lamp. 

For  a  moment,  he  thought  of  heading  her  off,  humble 
and  entreating.  He  would  never  see  her  again:  he  was 
sure  of  that.  But  at  the  same  time  he  perceived  the  use- 
lessness  of  insisting.  She  wanted  him  to  forget  her; 
the  interview  had  merely  been  to  suppress  all  traces  of 
the  past  still  existing  between  them.  And  he  allowed  her 
to  pass  out  of  his  sight. 

From  that  day  on,  the  life  of  the  Prince  lacked  a  pur- 
pose. Something  had  broken  within  him :  his  will  had 
crumbled  to  dust,  enveloping  his  senses  in  a  sort  of  fog. 
What  was  to  be  done?  Not  even  the  narrowest  of  paths 
remained  open  to  his  initiative.  Alicia  hated  him  as 
though  he  were  an  enemy.  It  meant  good-by  for  all 
time !  There  still  remained  the  other  man,  but  the  Prince 
was  invulnerable  as  far  as  Martinez  was  concerned. 

It  was  enough  for  him  to  think  of  what  had  happened 
in  Lewis'  castle  to  lose  all  intention  of  violence.  He 
cursed  his  Slavic  sentimentality,  so  confused  and  inco- 
herent, like  his  mother's,  which  prevented  him  from 
going  to  the  end  in  malice,  and  causing  him  to  fall,  when 
he  least  expected  it,  into  exaggerated  submission.  Alas, 
for  his  tears  of  repentance!    Alas  for  that  kiss  on  his 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  485 

adversary's  hand !  If  he  avoided  returning  to  the  Casino, 
it  was  in  order  not  to  meet  Martinez  and  those  two  Cap- 
tains who  had  witnessed  the  incomprehensible  conclu- 
sion of  the  duel.  He  no  longer  had  the  energy  to  impose 
his  will;  his  former  harshness  of  character  had  melted 
with  the  catastrophe  of  his  desires. 

He  shut  himself  up  once  again  in  Villa  Sirena,  in  order 
not  to  see  any  one.  He  hated  people,  and  at  the  same 
time  he  thought  with  a  certain  terror  of  the  ill-concealed 
smiles  that  might  greet  his  passing,  and  the  remarks  that 
might  be  exchanged  behind  his  back. 

Don  Marcos  was  the  one  companion  of  his  loneliness ; 
and  Lubimoff,  who  during  the  first  few  days  exchanged 
but  a  few  words  with  him,  finally  came  to  wish  that  he 
would  hurry  back  from  Monte  Carlo,  at  nightfall,  in 
order  to  hear  the  news,  which  in  other  days  he  would 
have  considered  insignificant.  They  entered  into  long 
conversations  on  what  was  going  on  in  the  Casino,  or 
on  the  happenings  of  the  world.  It  was  the  curiosity  of 
a  prisoner  or  an  invalid,  who  takes  an  exaggerated  in- 
terest in  things,  as  he  loses  his  sense  of  values,  owing  to 
his  inability  to  move  about  in  his  confinement. 

The  Colonel  was  giving  less  and  less  importance  to 
the  events  of  daily  life.  All  his  attention  had  been  fo- 
cused on  the  Atlantic  Coast  and  the  opposite  shores  of 
the  ocean. 

"They  keep  on  coming!"  he  said,  after  greeting  the 
Prince.  "The  Americans  keep  on  coming:  a  regular 
crusade.  There  are  hundreds  of  thousands  of  them; 
there  are  millions.  And  to  think  that  a  lot  of  people 
considered  the  talk  of  sending  armies  from  America 
mere  bluff!" 

He  was  really  indignant  at  such  ignorance,  quite  for- 
getting hie  skepticism  of  a  few  months  before. 


486  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

"A  great  country!  And  that  fellow  Wilson,  what  a 
man  \" 

At  present  he  believed  the  American  people  capable 
of  accomplishing  anything  they  set  out  to  do,  no  matter 
how  extraordinary ;  but  his  old-fashioned  ideas  prevented 
him  from  feeling  sustained  enthusiasm  for  anything  col- 
lective and  abstract,  without  human  physiognomy.  The 
former  partisan  of  absolute  monarchy,  preferred  in- 
dividuals :  one  man  to  think  for  the  rest,  and  give  them 
orders.  And  after  a  few  words,  his  enthusiasm  for  the 
American  democracy  began  to  shrink  in  scope  until  it 
rested  in  concentrated  form  on  the  head  of  Wilson. 

"The  greatest  man  in  the  world !" 

His  eyes  moistened  with  idolatrous  fervor  as  he  read 
the  President's  speeches ;  he  exhausted  all  his  vocabulary 
of  superlatives  in  expressing  his  admiration  for  the  per- 
sonage who  had  made  a  great  people  unsheath  their 
swords,  disinterestedly,  in  defense  of  justice  and  liberty, 
and  who  prophesied  at  the  same  time  a  future  of  peace 
for  mankind,  with  no  greedy  nations  to  menace  the  life 
of  the  humble  and  the  weak. 

One  evening  he  found  a  new  phrase  to  express  his 
admiration. 

"What  a  poet !"  Lubimoff ,  in  spite  of  his  melancholy, 
began  to  laugh.    President  Wilson  a  poet! 

Don  Marcos,  stammering  at  the  laughter  of  his  Prince, 
tried  to  explain  himself.  Perhaps  "poet"  was  not  just 
the  word  to  express  his  thought  accurately.  But  poet 
he  would  call  him  nevertheless,  and  with  good  reason.  A 
poet  for  the  Colonel  was  a  seer,  who  says  very  beautiful 
things  about  the  future  of  mankind;  a  prophet  who 
dreams  upon  his  heights,  embracing  with  his  glance  all 
that  the  common  crowd  swarming  below  cannot  see;  a 
being  who,  on  speaking,  in  whatever  form  he  may  choose, 
succeeds  in  making  people  who  are  listening  blink  their 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  487 

eyes  with  emotion,  while  a  shiver  runs  down  their  spines. 

His  tongue  became  twisted  as  he  said  this  but  above 
his  stammering,  arose  a  firm  unshakable  conviction. 

"After  all,  I  know  what  I  mean.  For  me,  he  is  a 
poet :  a  man  who  has  wings  .    .    .  very  long  wings." 

The  Prince  began  to  laugh  again.  Wilson  with  wings ! 
He  imagined  the  President  with  his  high  hat,  his  glasses, 
and  his  kindly  smile,  and  growing  out  from  each  shoulder 
of  his  long  coat  two  enormous  feathery  triangles  like 
those  of  the  angels  in  religious  paintings.  What  an 
amusing  fellow  the  Colonel  was! 

Then  suddenly  he  became  thoughtful,  while  his  fea- 
tures took  on  an  expression  of  great  seriousness, 

"You  are  right,"  he  said.  "I  can  see  him  with  wings, 
wings  that  are  too  long  perhaps.  A  great  thing  when 
it  comes  to  flying,  but  when  one  is  obliged  to  live  among 
men,  and  has  to  walk  along  on  the  ground !  .  .  .  I  am 
afraid  he  will  drag  his  wings;  I  am  afraid  they  will  be 
stepped  on  some  day,  and  that  people  will  find  them  a 
great  nuisance  ..." 

And  they  dropped  the  subject. 

The  Prince  wanted  to  break  the  confinement  which  he 
had  voluntarily  imposed  upon  himself.  Why  should  he 
stay  there  at  Villa  Sirena,  near  certain  people  who  con- 
stantly occupied  his  thoughts  yet  whom  he  did  not  wish 
to  see?  The  best  thing  would  be  for  him  to  return  to 
Paris  as  soon  as  possible.  The  long  range  cannon  was 
continuing  to  fire  on  the  Capital;  almost  every  week 
squads  of  German  aeroplanes  made  night  excursions 
about  it,  dropping  explosives.  Such  a  trip  offered  the  in- 
ducement of  danger  and  excitement  to  the  lonely  man, 
tormented  in  his  perfect  health  by  an  inactive  and  mono- 
tonous life,  which  offered  nothing  more  stimulating  than 
the  irritations  to  be  derived  from  his  recent  experiences. 

Every  morning,  when  he  got  up,  he  formulated  the 


488  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

same  plan:  "I  am  going  to  Paris."  But  the  trip  kept 
being  put  off  from  week  to  week.  It  was  a  case  of  abulia, 
the  loss  of  will  power  of  an  invalid,  who  makes  pro- 
jects of  active  life,  and  no  sooner  attempts  to  carry  them 
out,  than  he  loses  his  strength  again,  and  postpones  them 
indefinitely. 

The  most  insignificant  details  loomed  gigantically  be- 
fore his  diseased  will.  He  had  to  go  to  Nice  to  make 
reservations  at  the  Sleeping-car  Office.  He  thought  of 
sending  Don  Marcos;  then  refrained,  considering  it  pre- 
ferable to  go  himself.  And  days  went  by  without  his  tak- 
ing the  short  ride  preliminary  to  his  Paris  trip.  Both 
of  them  seemed  equally  long.  He,  who  had  thrice  cir- 
cumnavigated the  globe,  wearily  shrunk  at  the  thought  of 
the  slowness  of  travel  due  to  the  war.  Just  imagine 
sixteen  hours  on  a  train ! 

One  afternoon,  bored  by  his  splendid  gardens, — now  so 
monotonous! — ^by  the  silence  of  his  house, — now  so  de- 
serted ! — and  by  the  increasing  absent-mindedness  of  the 
Colonel,  who  was  always  having  something  to  do  either 
in  Monte  Carlo,  or  in  the  gardener's  pavilion,  Lubimoff 
started  out  on  foot  toward  the  City.  And  he  met  some 
one. 

He  had  turned  quite  mechanically  and  without  think- 
ing in  the  direction  of  the  upper  boulevards,  near  the 
street  in  which  Villa  Rosa  was  situated.  When  he  real- 
ized this,  he  decided  to  turn  back.  Just  then  he  saw 
Lieutenant  Martinez  coming  along  on  the  opposite  side- 
walk, in  the  direction  that  he  himself  had  been  going  a 
few  moments  before. 

The  soldier  seemed  to  him  taller,  stronger,  and  as  it 
were,  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  glory.  His  uniform  was 
the  same,  frayed  and  old  looking  after  some  years  of 
service;  but  to  the  Prince  it  seemed  entirely  new,  even 
dazzling  in  its  freshness.    Everything  about  the  Lieuten- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  489 

ant  looked  magnificent  and  he  seemed  to  illumine  the 
objects  about  him  by  mere  contact.  His  features  perhaps 
were  paler  and  more  angular ;  but  Michael  imagined  that 
he  radiated  a  certain  inner  splendor,  composed  of  pride 
and  satisfaction,  A  sort  of  ethereal  mask,  enveloping 
him  in  astral  light,  made  him  appear  handsome  and  gave 
him  a  new  physiognomy,  Apollo-like  and  triumphant. 
.  They  passed  without  speaking.  The  Lieutenant  pre- 
tended not  to  see  him,  as  Lubimoff's  eyes  followed  him 
with  a  questioning  glance.  What  was  there  that  was 
new  in  this  man  ?  The  Prince  doubted  that  lack  of  sound 
health,  that  perilous  condition  which  worried  the  doctors 
so  much.  It  was  all  a  lie  made  up  to  impress  the  ladies ! 
He  noticed  the  proud  firmness  of  the  soldier's  step,  the 
jaunty,  boyish  air  with  which  he  swung  the  rattan  he 
used  as  a  cane. 

On  losing  him  from  sight,  he  could  see  him  even  more 
clearly.  His  imagination  kept  vividly  recalling  certain 
details  over  which  his  eyes  had  wandered  carelessly. 
There  was  something  that  stood  out  in  painful  relief  in 
his  memory:  a  few  roses,  a  little  bunch  of  roses,  which 
the  soldier  was  wearing  on  his  breast,  between  two  but- 
tons of  his  uniform.  An  officer  with  flowers  seemed 
rather  strange !  That  was  what  had  shocked  the  Prince 
at  the  first  glance,  shocked  him  so  violently  that  his  whole 
vision  had  been  deeply  disturbed.  Yes,  those  flowers !  .  .   . 

He  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  thinking  about  them.  As 
he  stretched  out  in  his  bed  that  night,  darkness  clarified 
the  maze  of  thoughts  and  doubts  whirling  in  his  brain. 
He  could  see  it  all  in  a  cold  clear  light.  "It  has  hap- 
pened already.'' 

He  jumped  out  of  bed  and  turned  on  the  light,  pacing 
up  and  down  his  bedroom  in  a  fury. 

"It  has  happened  already!" 

He  kept  repeating  the  words  with  anguished  obsession ; 


490  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

he  repented  his  generosity,  as  though  it  were  a  crime. 
"Why  didn't  I  kill  him?"  Then  in  plaintive  tones  he 
would  repeat  his  original  affirmation,  concluding  that 
\  hat  had  happened  was  irreparable.  Then  he  put  out  the 
light  again ;  and  for  a  long  time,  in  the  darkness,  which 
once  more  filled  the  bedroom,  the  curses  of  the  Prince  re- 
sounded, alternating  with  fierce  exclamations  of  wounded 
pride  and  sobs  of  rage. 

The  following  day  his  conviction  still  persisted.  The 
childlike  beauty  of  the  morning,  which  always  inspires 
optimism,  meant  nothing  to  him.  How  was  he  to  know 
the  truth  about  that  thing  which  he  had  suspected  and 
feared,  but  which  he  never  imagined  would  really  come  to 
pass? 

A  desperate  curiosity  caused  him  to  spend  the  entire 
day  in  Monte  Carlo.  He  met  Martinez  again.  The  of- 
ficer kept  on  walking,  turning  his  glance  away  in  order 
not  to  see  him ;  but  the  Prince  imagined  he  caught  a  fleet- 
ing look  of  generous  pity  in  his  eyes,  an  expression  of 
compassion  for  an  unfortunate  and  inoffensive  rival. 
Again  he  was  wearing  flowers;  doubtless  different  from 
those  of  the  day  before. 

Lubimoff  repeated  to  himself  the  laments  of  the  pre- 
vious night:  "Yes,  it  had  already  happened."  It  was 
impossible  to  doubt  it.  But  the  thought  of  killing  him 
did  not  recur,  nor  did  he  repent  of  his  generosity.  That 
was  all  so  useless  now!  He  merely  thought  with  envy 
of  people  in  the  submerged  classes  of  society,  who  feel 
the  impulses  of  passion  very  simply,  without  any  dis- 
turbing sense  of  honor  and  solemn  promises.  They  were 
men  who  could  act  regardless  of  laws  and  customs. 
When  they  wanted  to  kill  some  one,  they  went  and  did 
so! 

He  saw  that  Martinez  was  thinner  than  ever,  with  a 
feverish  look  in  his  eyes.     Oh,  that  indefinable  some- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  491 

thing,  that  suggestion  of  youthful  vanity,  of  triumph  and 
satisfaction,  which  seemed  to  radiate  from  his  features 
like  a  halo  of  glory ! 

That  evening,  Toledo  found  himself  brusquely  repelled 
by  his  Prince,  when  he  tried  to  tell  him  about  a  letter 
which  he  had  received  from  Paris.  The  Administrator 
of  the  Prince's  estate  was  getting  impatient ;  he  was  ask- 
ing for  a  reply  from  his  Highness  in  regard  to  the  sale 
of  Villa  Sirena. 

*T  don't  know;  leave  me  alone.  The  best  thing  is  for 
me  to  arrange  the  matter  myself.  I'll  go  to  Nice  to- 
morrow and  see  about  my  trip  to  Paris.  .  .  .  No,  not 
to-morrow :  day  after  to-morrow." 

He  could  not  explain  to  himself  why  he  had  conceded 
that  additional  day  to  his  idleness:  it  was  an  instinctive 
postponement,  without  any  motive  v/hatsoever.  The  fol- 
lowing day,  after  breakfast,  he  regretted  it;  but  it  was 
already  too  late  to  find  the  chauffeur  he  had  gotten  the 
afternoon  of  the  duel,  and  whom  Don  Marcos  had  just 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  "purveyor  to  his  Highness." 

Where  could  he  go,  and  be  sure  of  not  coming  across 
the  persons  present  so  bitterly  in  his  thoughts  ?  Toward 
the  end  of  the  afternoon  he  went  to  the  Casino  terraces. 
There  was  an  open  air  concert  which  was  attracting  a 
huge  crowd.  It  was  improbable  that  Martinez  and  the 
woman  should  show  themselves  in  such  a  gathering. 

It  seemed  as  though  he  were  living  in  peace  times ;  as 
though  he  had  gone  back  to  one  of  those  rare  winters 
which  used  to  attract  all  the  wealthy  people  of  the  globe 
to  the  Riviera.  Both  terraces  were  filled  with  well- 
dressed  people.  The  bombardment  of  Paris  and  the  at- 
tacks of  the  German  Gothas  were  keeping  a  great  many 
elegant  ladies  in  Monte  Carlo  who  formerly  would  have 
felt  they  were  losing  caste  if  they  stayed  on  the  warm 
coast  when  winter  was  over. 


492  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Chairs  were  lacking.  A  large  part  of  the  audience 
was  seated  on  the  balustrades  and  steps.  Around  the 
orchestra  kiosque  there  was  a  mass  of  pleasant  colors, 
formed  by  women's  hats,  spring  dresses,  and  fluttering 
fans.  Opposite  the  terraces  the  sea  stretched  away  be- 
tween the  rose-colored  promontories.  The  far-away  sails 
reddened  by  the  setting  sun  seemed  like  so  many  flames. 
Across  the  violet  surface  of  the  Mediterranean  and  the 
crystal  opalescence  of  the  evening  sky  the  music  fell 
voluptuously. 

Nobody  was  thinking  about  the  war :  that  was  a  calam- 
ity that  belonged  to  another  world,  to  other  skies.  Even 
the  convalescent  soldiers  in  imiform,  who  were  living 
entirely  in  the  present  moment,  breathing  the  salt  air, 
listening  to  the  wail  of  the  violins,  and  surrounded  by 
gayly  dressed  women,  did  not  seem  to  remember  it. 
Many  eyes  were  following  the  progress,  along  the  horizon 
line,  of  a  string  of  ships  strangely  painted  like  fabulous 
monsters,  and  escorted  by  several  torpedo  boats.  But 
the  lulling  music  that  rang  in  the  ears  of  the  idlers  took 
all  significance  away  from  the  fearful  disguise  of  the 
boats,  and  from  the  cautious  slowness  with  which  they 
were  gliding  along  oflF  the  Shores  of  Pleasure. 

When,  after  seven  o'clock,  the  concert  was  over,  the 
terraces  gradually  emptied.  On  the  benches  only  a  few 
couples  remaining,  putting  off  the  time  of  parting  by 
conversing  quietly  in  the  silence  of  the  blue  twilight. 

The  Prince  succeeded  in  walking  from  one  end  to  the 
other  of  the  lower  promenade  without  once  having  to 
submit  to  contact  with  the  crowd. 

Suddenly  he  stopped,  with  a  feeling  of  surprise  and 
pain,  as  though  he  had  just  received  a  blow  in  the  breast. 
Down  the  wide  steps  which  joined  the  two  terraces,  a 
couple  were  descending.     His  instinct  recognized  them 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  493 

even  before  he  could  see  them  clearly.  It  was  a  soldier. 
It  was  Lieutenant  Martinez  .    .    .  and  she ! 

Alicia  was  dressed  in  mourning,  just  as  he  had  seen 
her  near  the  church ;  but  she  was  walking  less  resolutely, 
shrinking  and  timid,  on  finding  herself  on  that  spot  which 
shortly  before  had  been  occupied  by  all  her  neighbors 
from  the  city. 

They  were  talking  as  they  slowly  descended.  Absorbed 
in  the  view  out  upon  the  sea,  they  did  not  turn  their  eyes 
toward  the  spot  where  Lubimoff  was  standing  motion- 
less. At  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  they  chose  to  walk  in 
the  opposite  direction,  and  the  Prince  was  able  to  follow 
them. 

He  felt  that  some  extraordinary  power  of  divination 
was  sharpening  his  faculties ;  a  sort  of  second  sight  which 
was  enabling  him  to  see  and  study  both  their  faces,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  their  backs  were  turned  toward 
him. 

Alas,  that  walk !  It  was  the  desire  for  light  and  open 
air,  which  people  feel  after  a  sweet  confinement.  It  was 
the  insolent  need  lovers  have  of  displaying  their  happi- 
ness in  public,  when  the  joyous  hours,  through  monoto- 
nous repetition,  begin  to  weigh  on  them.  It  was  the  desire 
of  prolonging  in  the  sight  of  every  one  the  sweet  inti- 
macy enjoyed  in  secret  and  now  spiced  with  the  added  in- 
centive of  being  obliged  to  feign,  and  to  hide  all  real 
feelings. 

Michael  considered  his  intuitions  as  beyond  all  ques- 
tion. Of  course!  It  was  the  officer  who  had  proposed 
that  walk.  How  proud  he  would  be  to  walk  in  a  public 
place  with  a  celebrated  lady,  and  in  full  consciousness  of 
the  new  rights  he  had  acquired  over  her !  It  was  no  long- 
er possible  for  him  to  question  the  visualization  which 
had  made  him  groan  in  the  silence  of  the  night.  .  .  . 
It  had  taken  place !    It  had  taken  place ! 


494  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Alicia's  appearance  dispelled  all  doubts  in  advance. 
She  was  walking  along  with  a  certain  dismay  like  a 
person  obliged  to  go  on  in  spite  of  herself.  He  could 
see  her  invisible  features.  They  were  sad,  profoundly 
sad,  with  a  melancholy  look  of  the  woman  who  has  fallen 
and  is  conscious  of  her  abasement,  but  considers  it 
irremediable,  the  result  of  an  irresistible  destiny,  of  a 
cause  beyond  the  radius  of  the  will's  action. 

Her  head  kept  bending  down  to  one  side  toward  her 
companion,  for  her  eyes  to  gaze  on  him.  It  must  have 
been  the-gaze  of  a  willing  prisoner  anxious  to  forget  the 
pangs  of  remorse  and  taking  a  sensuous  satisfaction  in 
her  shameful  slavery.  While  her  soul  shrank  away  at 
the  memory,  her  body  was  bending  under  physical  attrac- 
tion to  that  other  body,  instinctively  seeking  the  contact 
that  was  causing  her  youth  to  bloom  again  in  a  new 
spring-time;  a  sad  spring-time,  like  all  the  surprises  of 
fate,  but  sweeter  far  than  the  dull  gray  hours  of  solitude. 

Hate,  repugnance,  and  indignant  jealousy  caused  the 
Prince  to  stop.  Why  should  he  follow  them?  They 
might  turn  their  heads  and  see  him.  He  was  ashamed  at 
the  thought  of  meeting  them.  The  wretches!  There 
must  be  Some  One  above  to  punish  such  things! 

And  he  left  them,  walking  toward  the  other  end  of 
the  promenade  in  order  to  descend  to  the  harbor  of  La 
Condamine. 

He  was  just  leaving  the  terrace  when  something  hap- 
pened behind  his  back  which  brought  him  to  a  stop.  The 
couples  seated  on  the  benches  suddenly  rose  and  ran 
shouting  in  the  direction  whence  he  had  come.  He  could 
hear  people  calling  to  one  another.  Some  news  seemed 
to  be  circulating  through  both  levels  of  the  garden,  bring- 
ing people  forth  from  the  walks,  from  the  clusters  of 
palm  trees,  and  the  walls  of  vegetation. 

Lubimoff  allowed  himself  to  be  carried  along  by  this 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  4Q5 

alarm,  and  retraced  his  steps.  He  saw  in  the  distance  a 
noisy  mass  of  people  ever  increasing  in  size,  a  group 
which  was  being  joined  by  the  winding  lines  of  curiosity 
seekers  running  down  the  steps.  The  garden,  which  a 
moment  before  had  been  deserted,  was  pouring  forth 
people  from  every  opening. 

As  he  drew  near  the  crowd,  he  could  hear  the  com- 
ments of  various  detached  onlookers,  who  were  telling 
the  news  to  the  new  arrivals. 

"A  convalescent  officer.  .  ,  .  He  was  taking  a  walk 
with  a  lady.  .  .  .  Suddenly  he  fell  in  a  heap,  as  though 
struck  by  lightning.    There  he  is." 

Yes ;  there  was  Martinez,  in  the  center  of  that  human 
mass,  a  pitiful  object,  lying  on  the  ground,  with  his  body 
bent  into  the  shape  of  a  Z :  his  head  made  a  right  angle 
with  his  breast,  and  his  legs  were  doubled,  making  an- 
other angle.  Lubimoff  came  forward  until  he  could  look 
over  the  shoulders  of  the  first  row  of  stupefied  onlook- 
ers. A  constant  sound  of  hard  breathing,  a  rattle  like 
that  of  some  poor  beast  in  the  death  agony  kept  com- 
ing from  his  foaming  lips.  In  his  motionless  body,  the 
only  sign  of  life  was  that  moan,  repeated  with  clock-like 
regularity,  with  no  change  in  the  tone. 

Officers  were  leaving  their  women  companions  to  force 
their  way  into  the  center  of  the  crowd.  On  recognizing 
Martinez,  their  surprise  assumed  a  caressing  brotherly 
expression. 

"Antonio !    Antonio !" 

They  bent  over  him  to  talk  in  his  ear,  as  though  he 
were  asleep ;  but  Antonio  did  not  hear  them.  One  of  his 
eyes  was  hidden  in  the  dirt  of  the  walk;  a  small  pebble 
was  clinging  to  the  eyelid  of  the  other.  All  one  side  of 
his  uniform  was  white  with  dust.  The  terrible  harsh 
breathing  was  the  only  reply  to  their  words  of  endear- 
ment. 


496  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

A  military  doctor  stepped  through  the  crowd.  He  took 
hold  of  Martinez's  hands,  and  felt  his  pulse.  A  look  of 
helplessness  came  over  the  doctor's  face.  The  Lieuten- 
ant had  had  many  attacks  like  this  one.  They  could  only 
hope  that  it  was  not  to  be  his  last.   .    .    . 

Lubimoff  could  see  Alicia  kneeling  on  the  ground, 
stunned  by  the  shock,  showing  the  sinuous  curves  of  her 
back,  under  her  mourning  garments,  oblivious  of  every- 
thing about  her,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  man  who  a 
few  minutes  before  had  been  walking  at  her  side,  talking 
and  smiling,  convinced  that  life  is  happiness,  and  who 
now  lay  stretched  in  the  dust,  convulsed  and  inert,  a 
pitiable  vessel  slowly  emptying  itself  in  dying  gasps. 

Suddenly  she  stood  up,  with  an  instinctive  sense  of 
danger.  She  did  not  care  to  remain  in  that  posture  be- 
fore everybody's  gaze.  Her  large  eyes,  with  a  blank, 
frightened  look,  began  to  move  about  over  the  crowd, 
without  however  recognizing  any  one.  For  a  moment 
they  rested  on  Michael  and  her  gaze  met  his  with  an 
expression  of  anguished  entreaty.  But  the  Prince,  lower- 
ing his  head,  concealed  himself  behind  the  front  row  of 
onlookers,  and  her  eyes  went  on  in  their  search  about 
the  circle,  with  a  look  that  became  dull  and  gray  again. 
She  believed,  doubtless,  that  it  had  been  an  hallucination. 

As  Alicia  remained  standing  there,  people  began  to 
point  her  out.  That  was  the  lady  who  was  with  the 
officer.  Some  of  them  recognized  her,  and  repeated  her 
name:  "The  Duchess  de  Delille."  Through  an  instinc- 
tive feeling  of  repulsion,  or  a  cowardly  desire  not  to  get 
mixed  up  in  any  "affair,"  no  one  spoke  to  her.  She  was 
left  alone  in  the  center  of  the  crowd,  with  a  look  of 
stupefaction  in  her  eyes,  that  seemed  to  ask  for  help, 
though  without  knowing  just  what  help. 

Willing  souls  began  to  take  the  initiative  with  an  air 
of  authority. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  497 

"Air !  Give  him  air !"  They  began  to  shove  the  crowd 
back  in  order  to  increase  the  circle  around  the  fallen 
man.  But  the  people  immediately  pushed  forward  again 
with  useless  suggestions  of  aid ;  and  once  more  the  space 
was  narrowed,  until  the  feet  of  the  nearest  spectators 
grazed  the  panting  lips  of  the  dying  man. 

A  young  girl  had  run  of  her  own  accord  to  the  bar  at 
the  entrance  of  the  Casino  and  was  coming  back  with  a 
glass  of  water. 

"Antonio!  Antonio!"  his  kneeling  comrades  vainly 
called  the  Lieutenant,  using  all  their  strength  to  open  his 
jaws  and  force  him  to  drink.  His  lips  repelled  the  Hquid, 
and  went  on  repeating  the  painful  moans. 

Ladies,  attracted  by  the  news,  began  to  arrive  from  the 
gambling  rooms.  They  all  knew  the  Duchess ;  and  looked 
at  her  with  a  certain  hostility,  after  gazing  at  the  dying 
man.  The  Prince  heard  fragments  of  their  comment: 
"A  poor  fellow  rescued  from  death  by  a  miracle.  .  .  . 
The  slightest  emotion.  .  .  .  That  woman  .  .  ." 

Beyond  the  group,  park  policemen  were  running  about 
giving  orders.  The  stretcher  bearers  had  arrived;  the 
same  ones  who,  according  to  public  rumor,  were  passed 
by  magic  through  the  walls  of  the  Casino  to  carry  away 
the  gamblers  dying  in  the  play-rooms. 

This  time  the  stretcher  was  absent.  The  onlookers 
were  separating  to  open  the  way  for  an  extraordinary 
novelty.  A  hired  carriage  was  coming  across  the  ter- 
races, which  were  forbidden  to  vehicles. 

Suddenly  Lubimoff  saw  the  Duchess  rise  above  the 
heads  of  the  crowd.  She  had  just  gotten  into  the  car- 
riage and  was  standing  in  it,  with  a  dazed  look  and  the  in- 
expressive features  of  a  person  walking  in  her  sleep. 
Perhaps  she  had  done  it  without  thinking;  perhaps  the 
military  doctor  had  invited  her  to  get  in,  thinking  she 


498  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

was  a  relative  of  the  patient.  Several  men  in  uniform 
lifted  the  inert  body  of  the  officer. 

The  harsh  breathing  that  rent  his  chest  continued. 

And  then,  in  the  presence  of  the  crowd,  whose  eyes 
were  sightless  with  stupefaction,  the  Duchess  proceeded 
as  though  she  were  alone.  She  had  just  dropped  to  the 
seat.  She  had  them  lay  the  corpse-like  body  across  her 
knees,  and  she  herself,  as  she  held  Martinez  with  one 
arm,  laid  his  panting  head  against  one  of  her  shoulders. 

The  carriage  slowly  started  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
officers'  hotel,  followed  by  a  large  part  of  the  crowd. 
The  doctor  went  along  on  foot,  telling  the  driver  to  go 
slowly. 

Michael  saw  Alicia  pass,  upright  and  rigid  in  her  seat, 
her  eyes  wide  open,  with  terror,  her  mouth  tense  with 
grief,  and  holding  the  dying  man  on  her  knees.  Her  at- 
titude reminded  him  of  the  Divine  Mother  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross ;  but  there  was  something  impure  and  shameful 
in  Alicia's  sorrow  that  made  the  comparison  inadmissible. 

"Oh,  Venus  Dolorosa." 

The  Prince  was  interrupted  in  his  reflections.  He  felt 
himself  rudely  shoved  aside  by  a  woman  in  uniform.  It 
was  Mary  Lewis,  running,  as  fast  as  her  legs  could  carry 
her,  to  overtake  the  carriage.  The  Amazon  of  Good 
Deeds  always  arrived  in  time  to  catch  up  with  suffering. 

Lubimoff  saw  how  the  vehicle  slowly  drove  away  with 
its  embroidery  of  people.  Its  journey  as  far  as  the  hotel 
would  be  endless ;  all  Monte  Carlo  would  see  it  go  by. 

He  felt  sad,  very,  very  sad.  That  officer  was  his 
enemy;  but  death!  .   .   . 

He  was  not  so  sorry  for  Alicia.  He  smiled  a  malicious 
smile  as  he  looked  for  the  last  time  at  the  carriage  and 
its  following,  which  was  constantly  increasing. 

In  the  line  of  scandals  there  was  nothing  common-place 
about  this  latest  of  the  Duchess  de  Delille. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Two  days  later,  in  the  morning,  LubimofI  saw  the 
Colonel  go  out  dressed  in  black. 

He  was  going  to  the  funeral  of  Martinez.  He  and 
Novoa  felt  it  was  their  duty,  as  Spaniards,  to  accompany 
the  hero  on  his  last  earthly  journey. 

On  his  return  he  told  his  impressions,  with  painful 
conciseness,  to  the  Prince.  A  few  convalescent  officers 
had  followed  the  bier.  The  Professor  and  he  were  the 
only  ones  in  civilian  clothes  present.  In  spite  of  his  garb, 
those  kindly  heroic  boys,  seeing  that  he  was  a  Colonel  and 
a  compatriot  of  the  dead  man,  had  obliged  him  to  preside 
over  the  funeral  services. 

The  Beausoleil  Cemetery  lay  half  way  up  the  slope  of 
the  mountain  on  the  crest  of  which  La  Turbie  is  situated. 
On  account  of  the  war,  it  had  been  necessary  to  enlarge 
it  by  several  level  plots  of  ground  that  formed  a  series 
of  terraces.  From  these  esplanades  the  eye  embraced  a 
magnificent  view:  Monte  Carlo,  Monaco,  immediately 
below  that,  Cap-Martin  advancing  out  over  the  waves, 
finally  the  infinite  expanse  of  sea  that  rose  and  rose  until 
it  mingled  with  the  sky.  A  monument  with  a  rooster 
arrogant  and  victorious  on  its  summit  held  the  remains 
of  the  combatants  who  had  died  for  France.  Don  Mar- 
cos was  still  much  moved  by  the  speech  he  had  delivered, 
while  all  stood  hushed,  at  the  entrance  to  this  common 
tomb,  which  was  about  to  swallow  up  forever  the  body  of 
Martinez. 

"It  was  a  speech  for  men,"  said  Toledo,  with  pride, 
"for  men  who  had  been  crippled  in  warfare.     Nothing 

499 


500  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

but  heroes  before  me !    There  wasn't  a  single  woman  at 
the  funeral." 

This  was  the  detail  that  interested  the  Prince  most: 
"Not  a  single  woman."  And  he  asked  himself  again 
what  could  have  become  of  Alicia. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  afternoon,  as  he  was  walking 
about  his  gardens,  he  saw  Lady  Lewis  coming,  preceded 
by  the  Colonel. 

The  Prince  took  refuge  in  his  house.  The  nurse  was 
undoubtedly  arriving  with  a  group  of  convalescent  Eng- 
lishmen, and  wanted  to  run  about  among  the  trees  and 
pick  flowers.  He  did  not  feel  he  had  the  strength  to 
listen  to  her  chatter,  which  was  like  the  twittering  of  a 
gay  but  wounded  bird  and  was  filled  with  a  happiness 
that  persisted  tenaciously  in  the  midst  of  grief,  and  con- 
tinued even  to  the  threshold  of  death. 

The  Prince  was  going  up  the  stairway  to  retire  to  the 
upper  rooms,  when  the  Colonel  overtook  him ;  but  be- 
fore the  latter  could  speak  Lubimoff  turned  on  him  in  a 
rage.  He  didn't  want  to  see  the  nurse !  Let  her  take  her 
Englishmen  over  the  gardens;  she  might  go  about  in 
them  as  though  they  belonged  to  her ;  but  as  for  himself, 
he  wanted  her  to  leave  him  alone. 

"Marquis,"  said  Toledo,  "the  noble  woman  has  come 
alone  and  must  talk  with  your  Highness.  She  has  some- 
thing important  to  say  to  you." 

The  Prince  and  the  nurse  sat  down  in  wicker  chairs 
out  of  doors  in  a  little  open  space  surrounded  by  leafy 
trees.  A  fountain  was  laughing  as  great  drops  of  water 
scattered  from  its  lazy  jet. 

The  greenish  light  reflected  through  the  grove  made 
Lady  Lewis  appear  weaker  and  more  anaemic.  What 
was  left  of  life  seemed  concentrated  in  her  eyes,  before 
taking  flight  and  vanishing  like  some  volatile  fluid,  into 
space.    The  Prince  was  beginning  to  forget  his  recent 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  501 

anger.  Poor  Lady  Mary!  Once  more  he  had  a  feeling 
of  tenderness  and  respect  for  her.  Her  physical  wretch- 
edness finally  changed  his  pity  into  the  kind  of  admira- 
tion that  disinterested  sacrifice  always  inspires. 

Accustomed  to  living  amid  the  deepest  sorrows,  to 
witnessing  the  greatest  catastrophes,  Lady  Lewis  paid 
little  attention  to  the  conventions  prevailing  in  ordinary 
life  and  spoke  at  once,  with  a  certain  military  abrupt- 
ness, of  the  reason  for  her  visit. 

She  was  coming  in  behalf  of  the  Duchess  de  Delille. 
She  had  spent  the  last  two  days  at  Villa  Rosa,  sleeping 
there  in  order  not  to  leave  the  Duchess  a  single  moment.' 
First,  Alicia's  wild  despair,  followed  later  by  a  complete 
collapse,  had  frightened  her.  The  lady  had  tried  to  kill 
herself. 

"Poor  woman!  .  .  .  She  finally  grew  calm,  seeing 
the  true  light,  and  realizing  the  path  she  must  take.  I 
feel  satisfied  that  I've  accomplished  that  much  by  my 
words." 

Lubimoff's  questioning  glance  remained  fixed  on  the 
English  woman.  What  light  and  what  path  was  she  talk- 
ing about  ?  But  there  was  something  that  interested  him 
more:  the  motive  of  her  visit,  the  message  that  the 
Duchess  had  given  her  for  him. 

Lady  Lewis  read  his  thoughts. 

"She  asked  me  to  see  you,  Prince ;  that  is  her  last  wish 
as  she  leaves  the  world.  She  begs  you  to  forget  her, 
never*  to  seek  her  out,  and  above  all  to  forgive  her  for 
the  harm  she  has  done  you  involuntarily.  Forgiveness 
is  what  she  most  ardently  yearns  for.  When  I  tell  her 
that  you  don't  hate  her,  it  will  restore  the  serenity  she 
needs  for  her  new  life." 

Michael  had  been  absorbed  in  deep  thought.  Forgive 
her?  Alicia  had  not  done  him  any  harm.  From  him- 
self, from  his  own  desires  and  disillusionments,  his  suf- 


502  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ferings  had  come.  If  he  had  remained  faithful  to  the 
principles  he  had  announced  some  months  before  when 
he  hated  women,  he  would  not  have  suffered  the  slightest 
change  in  the  sensible  life  he  had  been  leading.  Besides, 
where  was  she?    Could  he  not  see  her? 

This  flood  of  questions  was  interrupted  by  Lady  Lewis. 
She  continued  to  smile  sweetly,  but  her  voice  revealed  the 
firmness  of  an  unalterable  will. 

"The  Duchess  is  no  longer  living  in  Monte  Carlo;  I 
have  arranged  everything  in  regard  to  her  trip.  I  am 
the  only  one  who  knows  where  she  is,  and  I  shall  never 
tell.  Do  not  look  for  her;  let  her  go  away  in  peace  in 
her  quest  for  truth ;  think  of  her  as  dead  ...  as  others 
have  died,  as  thousands  of  beings  are  dying  and  will  con- 
tinue to  die  in  this  period  of  ours,  with  each  day's  sun. 
Forgive  and  forget.    Poor  woman !    She  is  so  unhappy." 

Lubimoff  understood  how  futile  all  his  questions  would 
be.  His  curiosity,  no  matter  how  strong  and  subtle, 
would  fail  in  contact  with  that  impenetrable  reserve. 
Alicia  had  disappeared  forever  .    .    .   forever ! 

He  now  felt  sadder  and  lonelier  than  ever  before.  As 
he  sat  there  beside  this  Amazon  of  human  sorrow,  he 
had  a  feeling  of  confidence  similar  to  that  which  the 
Duchess  must  have  felt  during  those  last  few  days.  It 
was  a  desire  to  make  a  confession  to  her,  an  instinctive 
impulse  to  bare  his  soul,  as  though  from  that  woman  who 
brought  to  death  beds  the  light-hearted  merriment  of  a 
bird,  might  come  the  supreme  counsel  of  wisdom. 

The  Prince  nodded  his  head,  murmuring  his  assent: 
"Yes,  I  forgive  her."  He  did  not  wish  the  other  woman 
to  bear  the  slightest  burden  of  grief  on  his  account.  He 
would  shoulder  all  that,  himself.  But  immediately  after- 
ward he  could  not  resist  the  impulse  of  that  anguish  to 
express  itself.  He  was  himself  astonished  at  the  words 
which,  overriding  all  restraint,  escaped  from  his  lips. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  503 

"I,  too,  Lady  Lewis,  am  very  unhappy." 

The  nurse  did  not  show  any  surprise  at  such  a  burst 
of  confidence.  She  simply  continued  to  smile,  and  said 
laconically : 

'1  know." 

Her  smile  was  changing  to  a  look  of  sweet  pity,  of 
beneficent  compassion,  as  though  the  Prince  were  a  child 
in  need  of  her  advice. 

She  had  guessed  his  unhappiness  long  before  the 
Duchess  had  talked  to  her  in  the  hours  of  despairing  con- 
fession. He  believed  he  was  unhappy  through  being 
crossed  in  love;  but  actually,  this  sorrow  was  only  the 
outer  shell  of  another  which  was  deeper  and  more  real, 
and  which  depended  on  himself  alone. 

He  had  tried  to  live  apart  from  his  fellow-beings,  ig- 
noring their  troubles,  selfishly  withdrawing  into  a  shell. 
He  had  wished,  by  loitering  on  the  margin  of  humanity 
which  was  suffering  the  greatest  crisis  in  all  its  history,  to 
prolong  the  pleasures  of  peace  into  a  time  of  war.  One 
could  understand  such  aloofness  in  a  coward,  dominated 
by  the  instinct  of  self-preservation ;  but  he  was  a  brave 
man.  One  could  tolerate  it  in  a  man  who  was  burdened 
with  children,  who  constantly  felt  the  imperious  duty  of 
supporting  them,  and  was  afraid  on  that  account ;  but  he 
was  alone  in  the  world. 

"We  are  all  unhappy.  Prince.  Who  doesn't  know  grief 
and  death  these  days  ?" 

And  she  talked  in  monotonous  tones  of  her  own  mis- 
fortune, as  though  she  were  reciting  a  prayer.  Her  smile, 
the  smile  that  animated  the  anaemic  homeliness  of  her 
features  with  a  vaporous  light  of  dawn,  gradually  faded. 

Six  of  her  brothers  had  been  killed  in  one  afternoon. 
They  belonged  to  the  same  battalion  and  she  had  received 
the  news  of  the  six  deaths  at  the  same  time.  Thirty-two 
of  her  relatives  were  now  beneath  the  ground  and  very 


504  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

few  of  them  had  been  soldiers  in  the  beginning.  Before 
the  war  they  had  lived  lives  of  pleasure.  They  enjoyed 
great  wealth  and  titles :  Life  had  been  as  sweet  to  them 
as  to  Prince  Lubimoff  .  .  .  But  when  they  heard  the 
call  of  duty!  .  .  .  "No  one  chooses  the  spot  where  he 
is  born;  no  one  can  decide  which  his  country  shall  be 
and  what  his  lineage.  We  come  into  the  world  accord- 
ing to  the  whims  of  chance,  in  the  upper  or  the  lower 
stories  of  society,  and  we  mold  our  lives  according  to 
the  place  designated  by  fate.  Neither  can  any  one  choose 
the  times  he  will  live  in.  Happy  they  who  are  bom  in 
peace  times,  when  humanity  is  wrapped  in  calm,  and  its 
prehistoric  savagery  is  slumbering  within  the  shell 
formed  by  civilization;  happy  also  they  who  are  born 
into  a  powerful  family  and  find  themselves  exempted 
from  the  struggle  of  life." 

"But  when  we  are  born  into  a  period  of  madness,"  she 
continued,  "we  have  to  resign  ourselves  and  adapt  our- 
selves to  it,  without  seeking  to  avoid  the  painful  burden 
that  falls  on  our  shoulders.  It  is  our  duty  to  suffer  so 
that  others  later  on  may  be  happy  as  our  forefathers  suf- 
fered for  our  sakes." 

What  grief  she  had  felt  on  receiving  at  a  single  stroke 
the  news  of  the  death  of  all  her  brothers !  She  did  not 
consider  herself  an  extraordinary  being;  she  was  simply 
a  woman  like  any  other.  She  had  wept.  She  had  aban- 
doned herself  to  her  despair.  Then,  an  idea  kept  drifting 
through  her  mind  joyously  refreshing  her  drooping 
spirits.  Supposing  men  were  immortal  in  this  life !  Then 
despair  would  be  horrible  indeed.  If  you  considered  that 
tiie  dead  might  have  saved  their  lives  by  keeping  far  from 
every  danger !    But  no  one  was  immortal. 

"Whether  you  die  from  a  bullet  wound  or  from  mi- 
crobes, makes  little  difference.  Only  the  external  cir- 
cumstances vary,  and  for  many  people  there  is  a  greater 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  505 

fascination  in  returning  to  dust  in  a  lightning-like  man- 
ner in  the  full  intoxication  of  battle,  with  a  generous  idea 
in  one's  mind,  than  in  slowly  fading  away  in  confinement 
between  two  sheets,  defiled  and  degraded  by  the  filth  of 
a  material  nature  beginning  to  disintegrate. 

"It  is  a  sort  of  holy  fear  necessary,  for  that  matter,  to 
the  preservation  of  human  life,  and  it  troubles  people  and 
makes  them  hide  from  themselves  the  terrible  truth  that 
waits  at  the  end  of  every  life.  Sensible  people  consider 
it  madness  to  go  out  in  quest  of  death.  It  is  all  very  well 
if  death  is  something  motionless  which  sets  hands  only 
on  those  who  draw  near  it  of  their  own  accord.  But  if 
man  does  not  go  forward  to  meet  death,  death,  with  its 
hundred-league  boots,  runs  in  search  of  man.  Who  can 
guess  the  moment  of  the  meeting  ?  The  best  thing,  then, 
is  to  scorn  it;  and  not  pay  it  the  tribute  of  constant 
thought  which  engenders  anxiety  and  fear. 

"Besides,  death  in  bed  is  an  unfruitful  and  sterile 
death.  To  whom  could  it  be  of  use,  except  one's  heirs  ? 
The  other  kind  of  death,  death  for  an  idea,  even  for  an 
erroneous  idea,  means  something  positive.  It  is  an  act 
of  energy  and  faith  and  the  aggregate  of  such  acts  makes 
up  the  noblest  history  of  humanity." 

The  Prince  admired  the  simplicity  with  which  this 
woman,  who  was  almost  in  a  dying  condition,  exalted  the 
heroism  of  life  and  scorned  death. 

She  had  placed  her  ideal  very  high  beyond  the  selfish 
desires  which  form  the  warp  and  woof  of  ordinary  lives. 
If  every  one  were  to  suit  merely  his  own  convenience, 
humanity  as  a  whole  would  have  no  reason  to  consider  it- 
self superior  to  animals. 

The  noblewoman  possessed  an  ideal:  to  sacrifice  her- 
self for  her  fellow  beings ;  to  serve  them  even  at  the  cost 
of  her  own  life.  She  was  almost  glad  of  the  war,  which 
had  helped  her  to  find  her  true  path.    In  peace  times  she. 


5o6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

would  have  done  the  same  as  every  woman,  linking  her 
lot  with  that  of  a  man,  bearing  children  and  building 
up  a  family. 

"Amorous  affection  reduces  the  world  to  two  beings; 
a  mother's  love  finds  nothing  of  interest  beyond  her  own 
progeny.  Only  when  old  age  is  reached  and  the  illusory 
perspectives  of  life  have  faded  away,  is  the  great  truth 
apparent  that  people  must  be  interested  in  every  living 
being,  ready  to  sacrifice  themselves  for  every  living 
being.  But  the  exalted  sympathy  of  old  age  is  unfruitful 
and  brief." 

Mary  Lewis  considered  herself  fortunate  in  having 
rushed  forward  in  the  right  direction  from  the  first  mo- 
ment, without  the  long  evasions  of  other  people,  who  are 
late  in  reaching  the  truth. 

"I  have  had  my  romance,  like  every  one  else." 

She  said  this  simply,  but  at  the  same  time  what  blood 
was  left  in  her  veins  animated  her  features  with  a  faint 
blush,  as  though  she  were  confessing  something  extra- 
ordinary. 

She  had  been  loved  by  a  scholarly  man,  a  former  sec- 
retary of  her  father,  the  Colonial  Governor.  Only  once 
had  they  confessed  their  love.  Afterwards  their  life  con- 
tinued as  before,  both  of  them  keeping  the  secret,  post- 
poning the  realization  of  their  dreams  to  an  indefinite 
future.   .    .    .   But  the  war  came. 

He  had  hastened,  among  the  first,  to  enlist  as  a  volun- 
teer :  "Mary,  I  am  a  soldier."  And  Mary  had  replied : 
"That  is  right."  They  wrote  short  letters  to  each  other 
at  long  intervals.  They  had  more  important  things  to  do. 
He  did  not  have  the  handsome  features  and  the  strength 
of  a  hero,  like  Lady  Lewis'  brothers.  He  even  suspected 
that  his  bearing  was  scarcely  military  because  of  the  un- 
gfainliness  that  comes  from  a  sedentary  life,  spent  in 
bending  over  a  writing  table.    But  he  did  his  duty,  and 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  507 

more  than  once  he  had  been  cited  for  his  cool  audacity. 

Their  desires  would  now  never  be  fulfilled.  Even 
though  she  might  succeed  in  surviving  the  war,  she  would 
continue  her  present  existence  in  civilian  hospitals,  in 
far-off  countries  scourged  by  plagues.  He  perhaps 
would  marry  another,  or  perhaps  would  remain  faithful 
to  her  memory,  devoting  himself  for  his  part  to  relieving 
the  pain  and  sorrows  of  his  fellow  beings.  But  they 
would  live  apart,  going  where  duty  called  them,  thinking 
constantly  of  each  other,  but  without  meeting,  like  the 
cultivated  monks  and  passionate  nuns  of  other  centuries, 
who  filled  their  lives  with  spiritual  friendships  maintained 
in  widely  separated  monasteries  and  convents. 

Once  more  Michael  admired  her  abnegation.  Lady 
Lewis  belonged  to  that  small  group  of  the  elect,  who  do 
not  know  what  selfishness  is  and  long  to  sacrifice  them- 
selves for  what  is  good.  She  was  one  of  that  immortal 
line  of  saintly  women  who  existed  before  the  birth  of  re- 
ligion and  who  will  continue  to  flourish  just  the  same 
when  skepticism  has  finally  ruined  all  our  present  beliefs. 

"You  are  an  angel,"  said  the  Prince. 

"No,"  she  protested;  "I'am  a  lover,  a  great  lover." 

Lubimoff  smiled  with  a  certain  air  of  pity. 

"You  a  lover?" 

She  went  on  talking  as  though  her  listener's  surprise 
annoyed  her.  What  was  other  women's  love  compared 
to  hers?  They  fixed  their  tenderness,  their  desire  for 
self-sacrifice,  on  one  man  only.  Beyond  him  they  found 
nothing  worthy  of  interest.  She  loved  all  men,  all  of 
them,  even  the  soldiers  of  the  enemy  whom  she  had  often 
cared  for  in  the  ambulances  at  the  front.  They  were 
mistaken,  and  if  they  really  were  guilty  souls  and  wished 
to  continue  being  so,  all  she  could  see  in  them  was  their 
physical  condition  as,  threatened  by  death,  they  lay 
stretched  out  on  their  beds,  with  their  flesh  mangled. 


5o8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

They  were  simply  unfortunate  beings,  and  this  was 
enough  to  make  her  forget  their  nationality. 

She  wanted  her  own  side  to  triumph  because  the  other 
represented  the  exaltation  of  brute  strength,  the  glori- 
fication of  war,  and  it  was  her  desire  that  there  should 
be  no  more  wars.  She  longed  for  the  time  when  love 
"would  rule  the  whole  world!  ...  It  was  bad  enough 
that  men  could  not  suppress  with  like  facility,  poverty, 
pain  and  death,  the  black  divinities  which  seize  us  at 
our  birth  and  with  whom  we  struggle  up  to  the  last 
moment. 

"I  love  everything  that  is  alive:  People,  animals,  and 
flowers.  Beside  such  love,  what  is  the  affection  between 
a  man  and  a  woman,  which  people  consider  the  only  love 
and  is  simply  the  selfishness  of  two  beings  setting  them- 
selves apart  from  their  fellow  beings,  and  living  only 
for  themselves?  My  love  is  likewise  a  kind  of  selfishness. 
I  realize  it;  perhaps  it  is  something  worse:  pride.  If 
you  only  knew  how  gay  I  feel  when  I  have  saved  from 
death  one  of  my  'flirts,'  one  of  those  poor  wounded 
men  whom  I  shall  never  see  again!  .  .  .  No,  don't  ad- 
mire me.  Prince,  and  don't  feel  sorry  for  me.  I  am 
merely  a  poor  woman !  by  no  means  an  angel !  Moreover, 
I  am  very  bad;  I  have  my  repentances,  like  every  one 
else." 

"You,  Lady  Mary!"  the  Prince  exclaimed  again  with 
a  look  of  incredulity.  That  he  should  have  no  doubts 
about  it  she  hastened  to  relate  the  great  sin  of  her  life. 
Traveling  through  Andalusia  she  had  seen  some  boys 
on  a  river  bank  who  were  trying  to  drown  a  stray  dog, 
throwing  stones  at  it.  Mary  fell  upon  them,  mad  with 
rage,  striking  them  with  her  parasol.  One  of  the  little 
fellows  wept,  and  blood  spurted  from  his  nostrils.  This 
unhappy  memory  had  often  troubled  her  in  the  night. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  509 

Now  she  could  not  see  a  child  without  caressing  it  with 
all  the  ardor  occasioned  by  remorse. 

Also  she  had  had  quarrels  in  various  countries  with 
drivers  who  were  whipping  their  work  animals  and 
with  hotel  keepers  who  would  not  allow  her  to  keep  in 
her  room  lost  dogs  and  cats  she  found  in  the  streets. 

Before  the  war,  her  pity  had  been  entirely  for  animals. 
Humanity  was  able  to  defend  itself.  But  now,  the  butch- 
ery of  beings  in  uniforms  had  turned  her  sweet  tender- 
ness toward  mankind.  They  needed  love  and  protection 
more  than  the  poor  brutes. 

The  mention  of  her  "flirts"  suddenly  brought  her  back 
to  her  duty.  At  that  very  moment  they  were  tossing, 
covered  with  bandages,  in  their  beds,  and  anxiously  call- 
ing for  her  presence.  Or  else  they  were  sitting  on  a 
bench  with  motionless  eyes  turned  toward  the  sun,  re- 
fusing to  take  a  walk  until  they  could  feel  the  gentle 
support  of  her  arm.  "Good-by,  Prince !"  She  must  go  i 
Her  lovers  were  waiting  for  her. 

As  she  stood  up,  she  thought  again  of  the  reason  for 
her  visit  and  spoke  once  more  in  the  tone  that  revealed 
the  firmness  of  her  will. 

It  was  useless  for  him  to  seek  the  Duchess.  The  poor 
woman  after  entering  so  many  blind  alleys  in  her  life,, 
had  finally  found  the  true  path,  the  one  she  herself,, 
more  foitunate,  had  discovered  while  still  in  her  youth. 
The  Virgin  Dolorosa  spoke  in  a  simple,  natural  way 
of  Alicia's  past.  She  knew  it  all.  In  the  silence  of 
Villa  Rosa,  the  other  woman  had  confessed  it  in  de- 
spair, without  the  nurse  feeling  either  scandalized  or 
amazed.  What  did  the  moral  capacity  of  a  mere  in- 
dividual mean,  when  at  every  moment  the  world  was 
beholding  the  most  unheard  of  crimes. 

"She  left  this  morning  and  is  a  long  way  off — a  long 


5IO  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

way!"  said  the  gentle  woman.  "It  is  possible  that  you 
will  never  see  each  other  again.  I  will  write  her  that 
you  forgive  her.  That  will  afford  her  the  peace  of  mind 
she  needs  in  her  new  life." 

The  Prince  was  going  with  her  as  far  as  the  entrance 
to  his  gardens.  During  the  walk  he  began  once  more 
to  lament  his  fate.  He  needed  to  relieve  by  articulation 
the  despair  in  which  he  was  left  by  the  refusal  of  the 
English  woman  to  tell  him  where  Alicia  was  staying. 

"1  am  very  unhappy,  Lady  Mary." 

"I  know,"  she  replied.  "My  misfortunes  are  greater 
than  yours,  but  I  rise  above  them  better." 

For  Mary  life  was  a  sort  of  balance.  In  one  pan  of 
the  scales  suffering  had  perforce  to  fall.  No  one  could 
free  himself  from  that  burden.  But  the  spirit  must  re- 
establish the  equilibrium  by  placing  in  the  other  pan 
something  great,  an  ideal,  a  hope.  She  had  found  the 
necessary  counterweight:  love  for  everything  alive,  sac- 
rifice for  one's  fellow  beings,  and  consequent  abnega- 
tion. 

What  did  the  Prince  have  to  counter-balance  the  shocks 
of  destiny?  .  .  .  Nothing.  He  went  on  living  the  same 
as  in  peace  times,  thinking  only  of  himself.  He  was 
still  just  as  the  great  mass  of  men  had  been,  before  the 
war  drew  them  from  their  selfish  individualism,  making 
the  virtues  of  solidarity  and  sacrifice  flourish  once  more 
in  their  souls.  For  that  reason  all  he  needed  to  feel 
desperate  was  a  mere  obstacle  to  his  desires,  a  disap- 
pointment in  love,  that  should  really  be  an  affliction  only 
in  the  life  of  a  mere  boy.  Oh,  if  only  he  could  get  a 
high  ideal!  If  only  he  could  think  less  about  himself 
and  more  about  mankind!  .  .  . 

They  shook  hands  beside  the  gate. 

"Good-by,  Lady  Lewis !"  said  the  Prince,  bowing. 

If  Don  Marcos  had  been  present  the  Prince's  voice 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  511 

at  that  moment  would  have  sounded  familiar  to  him.  It 
was  the  same  as  on  the  afternoon  of  the  duel,  when  he 
met  the  English  woman  with  the  two  blind  men ;  a  beau- 
tifully solemn  voice  which  wavered  close  to  tears. 

Toledo  did  not  appear  until  a  few  moments  later, 
coming  out  of  the  gardener's  pavilion,  to  meet  the  Prince, 
who  was  returning  pensively  toward  the  villa. 

Lubimoff  spoke  and  gave  an  order  in  stern  tones. 

"I  am  leaving  for  Paris.  I  want  to  go  to-morrow. 
Make  all  the  necessary  arrangements." 

Then,  as  he  gazed  into  the  Colonel's  eyes,  he  con- 
tinued in  a  gentler  voice : 

"I  think  I  shall  never  return  here.  ...  I  am  going 
to  sell  Villa  Sirena." 


CHAPTER  XII 

Don  Marcos  is  descending  the  slopes  of  the  public 
gardens  toward  the  Casino  Square,  in  conversation  with 
a  soldier. 

He  is  no  longer  the  ceremonious  Colonel  who  used  to 
kiss  the  hands  of  the  elderly  and  noble  ladies  in  the 
gambling  rooms,  and  was  present  as  the  inevitable  guest 
at  the  luncheons  of  all  the  titled  families  stopping  at  the 
Hotel  de  Paris.  There  is  nothing  about  his  person  to 
recall  the  long  velvet  lined  frock  coats,  the  high  white 
silk  hats,  and  the  other  splendors  of  his  eccentric  ele- 
gance. He  is  soberly  dressed  in  a  dark  suit,  and  there 
is  something  rustic  about  his  appearance,  which  reveals 
the  man  who  lives  in  the  country,  enjoys  cultivating  the 
soil,  and  feels  constraint  on  returning  to  city  life.  He  is 
wearing  gloves,  just  as  in  the  good  old  days;  but  now 
it  is  out  of  necessity.  His  hands  remind  him  of  a  certain 
narrow  garden  around  his  diminutive  villa,  with  five 
trees,  twelve  rose  bushes,  and  some  forty  shrubs  all  of 
which  he  knows  individually,  by  names  he  has  given 
them.  He  has  been  caring  for  them  so  fondly,  and 
•caressing  them  so  often,  that  his  fingers  have  become 
■calloused. 

The  soldier  is  also  walking  along  like  a  country  man, 
looking  with  curiosity  in  every  direction.  A  stiff  mustache 
covers  his  upper  lip,  one  of  those  stiff  and  aggressive 
mustaches  which  come  out  after  long  periods  of  con- 
tinual shaving.  His  uniform  is  old,  faded  by  the  sun  and 
rain.  The  yellowish  cloth  has  the  neutral  color  of  the 
soil.    His  right  arm  hangs  inert  from  the  shoulder  and 

5" 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  513 

moves  in  rhythm  with  his  step,  like  a  dangling  inanimate 
object.  His  hand  is  covered  with  a  glove,  the  rigidity  of 
which  reveals  the  outline  of  something  hard  and  mechan- 
ical. The  other  hand  leans  on  a  knotty  cane,  and  smoke 
is  curling  from  a  pipe  in  his  lips.  On  his  sleeves,  almost 
mingling  with  the  color  of  the  cloth,  is  the  one  narrow 
officer's  stripe. 

"It  has  been  ten  months  and  twenty  days,  since  your 
Highness  left  here.    How  many  things  have  happened !' 

The  soldier  is  Prince  Lubimoff;  but  Lubimoff  seems 
stronger,  more  serene  and  decided  than  the  preceding 
year,  in  spite  of  his  artificial  arm.  There  are  the  same 
gray  hairs,  scattered  here  and  there,  on  his  head;  but 
his  mustache,  on  being  allowed  to  grow,  has  come  out 
almost  white. 

The  Colonel's  side  whiskers  are  like  his  mustache. 
With  the  disappearance  of  his  elegance,  the  touches  of 
the  toilet  table  have  likewise  ceased,  and  the  modest  gray, 
obtained  by  careful  dying,  has  given  place  to  the  white 
of  frank  old  age. 

Don  Marcos  points  to  the  Square  toward  which  they 
are  both  going. 

"If  your  Highness  had  only  seen  it  the  night  of  the 
Armistice !" 

The  news  of  the  triumph  made  every  one  come  run- 
ning. They  descended  from  Beausoleil,  they  came  up  from 
La  Condamine,  and  they  arrived  from  the  rock  of  Mon- 
aco. For  the  first  time  in  four  years,  the  fagades  of 
the  Casino,  the  hotels  and  cafes,  were  illuminated  from 
top  to  bottom. 

The  Square  was  overflowing  with  people.  They  all 
seemed  to  blink  as  though  dazzled  by  the  light,  after  the 
long  darkness  in  which  the  submarine  menace  had  kept 
them  plunged.  Several  brass  instruments  roared  out 
the  Marseillaise,  and  the  crowd  following  the  flags  of 


514  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  Allied  countries  and,  unwilling  to  leave  the  Square, 
kept  marching  about  the  "Camembert,"  like  moths  about 
a  flame. 

Suddenly  a  long  dancing  line  formed,  a  farandole,  and 
it  began  to  run  and  leap,  growing  at  each  twist  and  turn. 
Every  one,  in  the  contagion  of  enthusiasm,  joined  out; 
officers  grasped  hands  with  privates ;  solemn  ladies  kicked 
up  their  heels  and  lost  their  hats;  timid  girls  shouted, 
with  their  hair  flying;  the  faces  of  the  women  had  the 
look  of  enthusiastic  madness  which  is  seen  only  in  times 
of  revolution.  The  lame  hopped  and  skipped,  the  blind 
imagined  they  could  see,  and  those  who  had  lost  their 
hands  held  on  with  their  stumps  to  the  serpentine  line. 
The  Marseillaise  seemed  like  a  miraculous  hymn,  giving 
every  one  new  strength.    Peace !  .  .  .  Peace ! 

In  one  of  its  evolutions,  the  head  of  the  human  snake 
climbed  the  steps  of  the  Casino.  The  farandole  was 
trying  to  enter  the  antechamber,  and  the  gambling  rooms, 
to  wrap  its  coils  about  the  crowd,  the  croupiers,  and  the 
tables.  Every  selfish  activity  should  cease  in  that  hour 
of  generous  joy. 

"Alas,  the  gamblers!  What  a  malady  gambling  is. 
Your  Highness !  On  reaching  the  Square  they  took  off 
their  hats  to  the  flags,  and  almost  wept,  as  they  sang 
a  verse  of  the  Marseillaise.  'Long  live  France!  Long 
live  the  Allies!'  And  immediately  they  entered  the 
Casino  to  bet  their  money  on  the  same  number  as  the 
celebrated  date,  or  on  other  combinations  suggested  by 
peace." 

The  gate-keepers,  with  the  air  of  old  gendarmes,  con- 
centrated in  a  heroic  body  to  keep  off  with  their  breasts, 
their  bellies  and  their  fists  the  turbulent  snake  dance 
which  was  trying  to  enter  the  sacred  edifice.  They 
seemed  indignant.     When  had  such  extraordinary  in- 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  515 

science  ever  been  seen  ?  Peace  was  a  good  thing,  and  peo- 
ple might  well  rejoice;  but  to  come  into  the  Casino 
like  a  dancing  riot,  to  interrupt  the  functioning  of  an 
honorable  industry!  .  .  .  And  they  had  finally  shoved 
the  line  of  disheveled  women  down  the  steps,  and  the 
decorated  soldiers  who  were  suddenly  forgetting  their 
infirmities  and  their  wounds  were  driven  after  it. 

The  Prince  and  Toledo  arrive  at  the  Square  and  turn 
to  the  left  of  the  Casino,  toward  the  Cafe  de  Paris. 

Lubimoff  sits  down  at  a  table,  at  a  protruding  angle 
of  the  sidewalk  cafe  which  people  nickname  "The  Prom- 
ontory." The  Colonel  remains  on  his  right.  He  has 
spent  the  afternoon  with  the  Prince,  and  must  return 
home.  He  is  no  longer  so  free  as  before;  some  one  is 
living  with  him,  and  his  new  situation  imposes  un- 
avoidable obligations. 

In  his  mind's  eye  he  can  see,  on  the  heights  of  Beau- 
soleil,  the  little  house  he  lives  in,  surrounded  by  its  little 
garden.  It  is  all  his  by  registered  public  deed.  But  the 
fate  of  his  property  does  not  worry  the  Colonel ;  no  one 
will  carry  off  his  walls  and  trees.  What  makes  him 
nervous  is  a  certain  non-commissioned  American  officer, 
young  and  well  built,  who  has  a  mania  for  walking  about 
the  dwelling;  and  certain  bright  eyes  which  from  a 
window  follow  the  soldier  with  a  hungry  look;  and  cer- 
tain lips  red  as  cherries,  that  smile  at  that  American; 
and  certain  hands  which  Don  Marcos  thinks  he  has 
surprised  from  a  distance  throwing  down  a  flower,  though 
their  owner  shrieks  at  him  in  fury  every  day  to  convince 
him  that  he  has  been  imagining  things. 

Don  Marcos  is  married.  A  few  weeks  after  the  de- 
parture of  the  Prince,  a  great  change  came  into  his  life. 
Villa  Sirena  already  belonged  to  the  nouveau-riche  who 
was  a  maker  of  auto  trucks  and  aeroplanes,  and  who 


Si6  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

had  also  bought  the  Paris  residence.  The  Colonel  on 
giving  him  possession,  remembered  only  to  praise  the 
merits  of  the  gardener  and  his  family. 

Lubimoff,  before  leaving  for  the  front,  had  arranged 
for  his  "chamberlain's"  future,  assuring  him  a  pension 
of  ten  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  also  sending  him  a 
certain  sum  with  which  to  buy  a  house.  Since  the  Colonel 
had  set  his  mind  on  dying  in  Monte  Carlo,  he  ought  to 
have  a  little  Villa  Sirena  of  his  own. 

After  digging  in  the  garden  on  his  property  for  a 
short  time,  with  an  occasional  glance  down  on  the  Casino 
Square,  Toledo  went  in  search  of  Novoa.  The  Professor 
was  his  best  friend;  besides,  he  was  a  Spaniard,  and  it 
was  the  latter's  duty  to  be  of  service  to  him,  in  the  most 
important  event  in  his  life.  He  needed  a  best  man  for 
his  wedding.  The  Professor  was  dumbfounded  on  being 
informed  that  the  Colonel  was  going  to  marry  the  gar- 
dener's daughter.  She  was  young  enough  to  be  his  grand- 
child! It  was  tempting  fate  for  a  man  of  his  years  to 
expose  himself  deliberately  to  such  dangers. 

"You,  Don  Marcos,  as  a  Spaniard,  must  remember," 
said  Novoa,  "that  the  Saint  whose  name  you  bear  has 
a  bull  with  long  horns  for  his  emblem!  Besides,  youth 
has  its  rights." 

"And  old  age  its  duties,"  replied  the  Colonel,  with  a 
kindly  air,  resigning  himself  to  his  future. 

At  present,  standing  beside  the  Prince,  he  stammers 
with  timidity  and  embarrassment.  He  hates  to  confess 
that  he  must  desert  him. 

"Mado  is  waiting  for  me:  you  see,  the  poor  girl 
doesn't  go  out  very  much.  She  likes  to  have  me  take  her 
to  the  afternoon  concerts  on  the  terraces.  It  is  five 
o'clock." 

And  when  the  Prince  assents,  with  a  slight  nod,  Toledo 
rushes  off  precipitously.     Then,  farther  on,  he  begins 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  517 

almost  to  run  up  the  slope,  panting,  but  without  feeling 
his  weariness.  He  wants  to  reach  home  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  yet  is  afraid  of  doing  so.  He  is  sure  of 
Mado  only  when  he  is  within  range  of  her  shrieks.  He 
shudders  when  he  thinks  that  he  may  be  "imagining 
things"  again. 

As  the  Prince  remains  alone,  the  glass  that  is  before 
his  eyes  gradually  fades  away  and  with  it  the  adjoining 
tables,  and  the  people  seated  around  the  "Camembert." 
His  vision  contracts,  and  buries  itself  deep  within  his 
mind  to  contemplate  other  images  of  memory. 

He  arrived  in  Monte  Carlo  that  morning.  Only  a  few 
hours  have  passed,  and  he  has  seen  so  much  already ! 

He  recalls  certain  remarks  of  his  friend  Lewis;  and 
remarks,  made  during  one  of  the  luncheons  at  Villa 
Sirena:  "Life  is  strange  and  uneven  as  it  flows  along. 
Time  goes  by  without  anything  extraordinary  arising, 
and  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  hours  do  the  work  of  months, 
days  are  as  eventful  as  years,  and  things  happen  in  a 
few  moments  which,  at  other  times,  would  take  cen- 
turies." How  many  people  have  died  in  the  relatively 
short  space  of  time  that  has  elapsed  since  he  last  left 
Monte  Carlo! 

Lubimoff  recalls  the  brief  and  exciting  period  after 
his  arrival  in  Paris :  his  enlistment  in  the  Foreign  Legion ; 
the  Commission  of  Second  Lieutenant  granted  him  in 
recognition  of  his  former  service  as  Captain  in  the  Im- 
perial Guards;  his  departure  for  the  front,  after  dis- 
tributing or  investing  the  million  and  a  half  derived 
from  the  sale  of  Villa  Sirena,  his  hard  life  in  action, 
the  battles  and  slaughter  accompanying,  with  gruesome 
prodigality,  the  advances  of  the  triumphant  offensive. 
He  recalls  his  meeting  with  a  member  of  the  Legion  who 
suddenly  called  to  him  and  whom  he  had  some  difficulty 
in  recognizing :  Atilio  Castro !    Castro  had  changed.  His 


5i8  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

ironical  smile  had  vanished.  He  looked  on  life  with 
greater  seriousness,  and  now  seemed  convinced  of  the 
worth  of  his  actions.  They  belonged  to  different  bat- 
talions, and  they  did  not  see  each  other  again,  till  late 
one  afternoon,  after  a  fight,  he  came  across  him.  The 
poor  boy  was  lying  stretched  out  on  the  ground,  among 
other  corpses.  His  forehead  had  been  crushed  in  and  his 
brain  was  showing  under  the  wound !  On  that  face  the 
death  grin  was  a  smile  of  serenity.  Poor  Castro !  What 
could  have  become  of  Dona  Clorinda  ? 

The  Prince's  mind  wanders  from  that  memory.  Other 
lost  friends  claim  his  attention.  He  evokes  finally  a 
more  recent  vision :  his  arrival  after  a  long  convalescence 
in  a  hospital,  in  Monte  Carlo.  On  getting  out  of  the 
train,  Toledo  deeply  moved,  gazes  at  his  artificial  arm, 
which  hides  but  imperfectly  the  amputation.  He  had 
suffered  for  several  months  from  the  consequences  of 
a  stupid,  accidental  wound,  received  ingloriously  a  few 
days  before  the  armistice. 

He  ascends  the  slope  to  the  delightful  little  home  of 
Don  Marcos,  which  will  be  his  own  while  he  remains 
here.  Down  below,  projecting  into  the  sea,  the  promon- 
tory of  Villa  Sirena  meets  his  eye.  It  now  belongs  to 
another  man,  and  he  turns  his  glance  away  to  keep  certain 
memories  from  welling  up.  In  doing  so  his  eyes  chance 
to  meet  the  eyes  of  Mado,  Toledo's  seiiora;  eyes  which 
doubtless  consider  Prince  Lubimoff  more  interesting, 
with  his  mustache,  his  elderly  appearance,  and  his  uni- 
form, than  when  he  was  the  elegant  master  of  her  par- 
ents. Poor  Colonel!  And  Michael  flees  the  tempting 
glance,  and  the  full  scarlet  lips,  which  seem  to  challenge 
him  to  smile. 

After  lunch  he  follows  a  path  which  zigzags  up  the 
mountain;  he  sees  a  stone  wall,  passes  through  a  door, 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  519 

and  briefly  contemplates  a  monument  surmounted  by 
a  huge  rooster. 

Toledo  bares  his  head.  Peace  to  the  heroes!  Then 
he  points  to  the  entrance  of  the  funereal  structure. 

"Poor  Martinez  is  there." 

They  descend  several  steps  to  another  part  of  the 
cemetery,  lying  in  terraces  on  the  mountain  slope.  On 
that  level  plot  the  tombs  are  leveled  off  even  with  the 
soil,  with  slabs  of  stone  protected  by  low  rectangular 
fences  of  chain,  or  simply  bordered  with  flowers.  An 
aesthetic  instinct  seems  to  explain  the  sparing  use  of 
ornaments  here.  From  these  mournful  esplanades  of 
death  one  can  see  a  great  expanse  of  green  coast,  dotted 
with  the  white  of  villas  and  towns ;  the  rose-colored  Alps, 
the  capes  of  purple  rock,  the  deep  intense  blue  of  the 
Mediterranean,  and  the  soft  limpid  blue  of  a  cloudless 
sky.  And  the  graves  seem  to  smile  at  all  this  splendor 
of  Nature. 

The  Colonel  searches  among  them,  reading  the  names. 

"Here,  Marquis." 

He  points  to  a  slab  with  a  simple  inscription :  "Mary 
Lewis." 

"Just  like  a  bird,  your  Highness.  One  morning  at 
dawn  they  found  her  poor  little  body  dead  on  the  hospital 
cot.  She  hadn't  cried  out,  she  hadn't  complained;  she 
departed  as  she  had  lived.  The  nurses  say  that  the  face 
was  smiling.    Her  body  was  as  light  as  a  feather." 

Around  the  tomb  several  wreaths  were  turning  black, 
as  though  scorched  by  fire.  Toledo  seeks  among  these 
offerings  of  the  dead  woman's  companions,  until  he 
points  to  a  handful  of  fresh  roses,  which  are  beginning 
to  decay. 

"They  must  be  from  Lord  Lewis,"  he  goes  on  to  say. 
"When  things  go  badly  in  the  Casino,  he  comes  up  to 


520  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

see  his  niece.  Your  Highness  must  know,  of  course, 
that  with  the  death  of  Lady  Lewis,  he  is  now  a  Lord — 
really  a  Lord," 

The  Prince  shrugs  his  shoulders.  To  think  of  human 
vanities  in  a  place  like  this,  which  makes  all  earthly 
worries  seem  grotesque! 

Don  Marcos  guesses  his  impatience,  and  as  they  de- 
scend two  more  terraces,  he  goes  on  explaining. 

"The  English  woman  died  before  the  other;  that  is 
why  they  buried  her  farther  up.  So  many  people  have 
died  in  the  last  few  months !" 

They  reach  the  last  terrace  of  the  cemetery,  the  lowest 
one,  a  square  field  of  reddish  earth  in  which  there  are 
no  slabs,  no  truncated  columns,  and  no  fences  of  chain. 
Little  mounds  of  earth  taking  the  form  of  a  coffin  in- 
dicate the  location  of  the  graves.  Some  of  them  have 
wooden  crosses.  From  one  of  the  latter  hangs  the 
picture  of  a  young  soldier  in  the  center  of  a  wreath  laid 
there  by  his  parents. 

Two  men  show  their  heads  and  shoulders  above  the 
ground  and  disappear  from  sight  again  after  emptying 
their  shovels.  They  are  opening  a  grave  for  some  one 
who  is  soon  to  come.  Michael  notices  floating  up  from 
the  vibrant,  luminous  air,  the  mournful  sound  of  a  bell, 
tolling  in  an  unseen  church  below. 

The  Colonel  insists  on  explaining. 

"It  is  a  temporary  grave,  without  any  slab,  without 
any  name," 

On  account  of  the  war,  it  was  impossible  to  send  the 
body  to  Paris.  It  will  lie  here  the  length  of  time  the  law 
demands,  and  then  the  young  lady,  who  is  her  heir,  will 
have  her  taken  to  the  vault  in  the  Passy  Cemetery  where 
her  mother  is  buried.  He  hesitates  somewhat  as  he 
examines  the  mounds,  and  finally  stops  in  front  of  one 
of  them,  and  takes  ofif  his  hat. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  521 

''Here  it  is." 

Lubimoff  cannot  hide  his  surprise.  "Here  ?  .  .  ."  He 
sees  a  heap  of  earth,  without  anything  to  adorn  it,  with- 
out anything  to  differentiate  it  from  the  rest,  and  which 
inspires  in  him  no  emotion  at  all.  He  looks  anxiously 
at  his  companion.  Hasn't  he  made  a  mistake  ?  Are  they 
not  standing  beside  the  tomb  of  some  poor  soldier  who 
died  of  his  wounds? 

The  Colonel,  somewhat  offended  by  the  question,  re- 
peats energetically:  "Here  it  is."  He  remembers  that 
he  was  the  only  man  present  at  the  funeral.  Three  nurses, 
Senorita  Valeria,  and  he,  followed  the  coffin  to  these 
heights ;  there  was  no  one  else. 

Poor  Duchess  de  Delille!  Toledo  is  moved  on  re- 
membering her  unexpected  death.  Lady  Lewis  had  sent 
her  to  the  front.  Having  been  born  in  the  United  States, 
it  was  fairly  easy  for  her  to  be  admitted  to  a  hospital 
unit  with  the  American  Divisions  that  were  fighting  at 
Chateau-Thierry. 

The  Prince,  listening  to  the  explanations  of  Don  Mar- 
cos, recalls  a  confession  Alicia  once  made  to  him.  Her 
hands  were  clumsy.  Her  spirit,  anxious  to  do  good,  weak- 
ened at  the  moment  of  action  through  a  lack  of  material 
training.  Doubtless  for  that  reason  she  had  been  sent 
back  a  few  weeks  later  to  the  Riviera,  to  give  her  serv- 
ices in  a  quieter  hospital  than  the  ambulance  stations  at 
the  front. 

Toledo  had  not  seen  her.  She  was  living  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Monte  Carlo  without  his  ever  suspecting  it. 
The  first  news  he  had  had  of  her  was  that  of  her  death ; 
a  death  which  leaves  the  Colonel  pensive  whenever  he 
recalls  it.  She  became  infected  by  a  surgical  instrument 
which  had  just  been  used  in  an  operation.  Perhaps  it 
was  because  of  the  clumsiness  of  her  hands;  perhaps 


522  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

.  .  .  who  knows !  Don  Marcos  believes  that  the  Duchess' 
was  tired  of  Hfe. 

"A  horrible  death,  Marquis.  I  did  not  see  her :  I  am 
glad  I  didn't.  They  tell  me  she  was  black  and  swollen. 
Besides,  for  several  hours  she  was  in  torture,  Hfting 
herself  on  her  head  and  heels,  arching  above  the  bed, 
with  the  muscles  of  her  body  tense  with  the  most  atro- 
cious suffering.  Tetanus!  How  terrible  for  a  great 
lady,  so  beautiful,  so  elegant  to  die  like  that !  But  in  the 
midst  of  such  pain  she  found  the  peace  of  mind  to  dic- 
tate her  last  testament.  Seiiorita  Valeria  has  inherited 
Villa  Rosa,  and  several  hundred  thousand  francs:  all 
that  she  won  that  night  at  the  Sporting  Club.  As  for 
your  Highness  .  .  •  " 

The  Prince  interrupts  him  with  a  gesture.  He  has 
known  for  a  long  time,  from  the  letters  of  Don  Marcos, 
that  Alicia  remembered  him  in  her  last  moments,  leaving 
him  heir  to  her  silver  mines  in  Mexico,  all  that  she 
possessed  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean ;  nothing  at  the 
present  moment,  but  in  the  future  perhaps  a  fortune, 
almost  as  great  as  that  which  Lubimoff  formerly  held 
in  Russia. 

He  remains  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  grave.  On  it  he 
sees  some  fine  moss,  a  miniature  forest,  opening  its 
branches  at  the  breath  of  spring,  and  among  the  tiny 
leaves  diminutive  flowers  are  stirring.  Several  greenish 
black  butterflies,  spotted  with  red,  are  fluttering  above 
this  murmuring  forest  of  budding  life,  much  as  the  mon- 
strous prehistoric  birds  fluttered  above  the  first  vegeta- 
tion of  the  globe. 

Michael  sees  a  relation  between  these  insects  and  the 
spirit  that  dwelt  in  the  organism  now  disintegrating  a 
few  feet  under  the  ground  beneath  his  feet.  The  varied, 
clashing  colors  remind  him  of  the  dead  woman's  soul. 
In  the  same  way  a  few  minutes  before,  a  white  butterfly 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  523 

fluttering"  above  the  flowers  brought  by  Lewis  reminded 
him  of  the  child-like  and  sublime  soul  of  Lady  Mary. 

At  present,  sitting  in  the  cafe,  his  emotions  are  greater 
than  in  the  cemetery.  He  can  see  events  through  a  veil 
of  memory,  spiritualized,  and  free  from  the  sediment 
of  reality. 

Poor  Alicia !  Poor  woman,  disillusioned  of  life !  The 
triumphant  Venus,  the  Helen  of  the  "old  men  on  the 
wall,"  the  beauty  who  was  the  center  of  the  Universe, 
more  eager  for  admiration  than  for  love,  is  lying  in  this 
miserable  cemetery,  among  the  bodies  of  soldiers.  Per- 
haps she  voluntarily  hastened  her  exit  from  a  world  in 
which  she  could  not  find  her  place,  defeated  by  her  own 
actions. 

Our  lives  are  nothing  more  than  what  we  will  them 
to  be.  We  create  life  in  our  own  image;  it  is  useless 
for  us  to  complain  of  fate :  we  are  what  we  want  to  be. 
It  was  impossible  for  Alicia  to  end  her  days  save  in 
some  extraordinary  manner,  in  harmony  with  her  pre- 
vious career.  He,  too,  has  lived  as  most  men  do  not  live, 
and  he  will  die  a  different  death  from  them. 

He  feels  neither  grief  nor  resentment.  He  is  sur- 
prised that  he  could  have  hated  Martinez  and  desired  this 
woman  with  such  vehemence.  At  present  he  feels  only 
melancholy  and  a  deep  sadness  at  the  memory  of  those 
dreams  that  no  longer  exist  and  which  are  beginning  to 
die  a  second  death,  in  being  forgotten  by  those  who  knew 
of  them.  They  have  no  immortality  save  in  the  memory 
of  the  Prince,  a  poor  memory  destined  to  fade  away  in 
turn  before  many  years. 

In  his  imagination  he  attempts  to  pierce  the  mass  of 
earth  that  covers  the  dead  body;  he  makes  an  effort  to 
penetrate  with  his  vision  into  the  densest  of  the  shadows. 
Only  a  few  months  of  decomposition  have  gone  by :  her 
personality  has  not  yet  wasted  away  completely.    He  sees 


524  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

her  as  she  was  in  life  and  at  the  same  time  as  she  is 
now.  Her  flesh  is  disintegrating  in  little  putrid  rivulets 
that  run  down  the  folds  of  her  clothes,  blackened  and 
eaten  away.  She  is  forced  to  smile  at  all  times  in  the 
darkness :  she  no  longer  has  any  lips.  Her  eyes  serve  as 
a  refuge  for  the  prolific  grave  flies  which  engender  mil- 
lions and  millions  of  destroyers.  And  this  annihilation  of 
something  which  existed,  thought,  and  loved,  is  as  yet 
only  in  its  first  stages. 

After  the  devourers  of  the  soft  parts  will  come  the 
irresistible  artisans  of  the  bones.  Myriads  of  micro- 
scopical workers  will  plow  the  skeleton,  cleaning  away 
the  last  impurities  clinging  to  the  framework,  undoing  the 
marvelous  articulations,  scraping  away  the  cement  which 
holds  the  vertebrae  together.  Some  day  the  lower  jaw 
will  loosen,  falling  toward  the  abdominal  cavity,  leaving 
the  upper  jaw  bone,  the  teeth  of  which  knew  the  splendor 
of  smiles  and  the  caress  of  kisses.  Some  other  day,  the 
skull,  as  the  pivot  on  which  it  rests  comes  apart,  will 
fall  in  turn  and  mingle  with  the  dust  of  the  ribs 
and  the  little  bones  of  the  feet  which  mark  the 
rhythm  of  an  undulating  walk.  Within  a  few  centuries 
revolutions  and  wars  will  perhaps  bring  this  skull  to 
the  surface.  Why  not?  LubimoflF  has  just  seen  at  the 
front  numerous  cemeteries  swept  away  by  gunfire,  with 
the  dead  emerging  from  the  earth,  raised  thus  by  the 
bursting  shells.  And  when  some  one,  in  the  future, 
with  the  eternal  curiosity  of  the  Shakespearean  Prince 
takes  Alicia's  skull  in  his  hand,  he  will  not  be  able  to 
tell  whether  it  belonged  to  a  lady  or  a  servant,  whether 
it  belonged  to  a  beauty  or  to  a  drab. 

Michael  recalls  with  ironical  sadness  all  the  illusions, 
all  the  desires,  he  had  in  the  past,  concentrated  on  this 
nothingness.  He  begins  to  feel  the  need  of  forgetting 
the  corpse.    His  eyes,  looking  within,  see  the  diminutive 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  525 

foliage,  the  gaudy  butterfly,  and  all  that  nature  has 
placed  on  a  nameless  tomb.  This  is  what  a  life  which 
considered  itself  superior  to  all  others  has  left  as  the 
only  trace  of  its  existence.  Perhaps  in  the  corolla  of 
one  of  the  little  flowers  there  is  something  of  Alicia's 
soul,  the  butterflies  sip  it,  and  continue  in  an  intoxicated 
flight  above  the  tombs. 

Springtime !  The  Prince  lifts  his  thoughts  above  the 
sorrows  of  individuals.  He  recalls  what  he  has  seen  in 
a  comer  of  the  world  ruined  by  man's  bestiality:  cities 
in  ruins ;  villages  that  raise  their  walls  only  a  yard  above 
the  soil,  like  towns  which  have  been  excavated  after  a 
cataclysm;  barns  set  on  fire;  endless  fields  made  sterile, 
torn  apart  and  turned  topsy  turvy  by  five  years  of  bom- 
bardment; many  graves — thousands  of  graves — millions 
of  graves.  Women,  dressed  in  black,  stagger  along  the 
roads  through  the  ruins  and  the  funnel-shaped  chasms 
opened  by  the  monstrous  projectiles.  They  have  lost 
their  children,  they  have  seen  their  husbands  executed, 
and  now  they  are  exploring  the  soil  in  search  of  their 
homes  that  were.  .  .  . 

But  the  Winter-time  of  war  is  over;  and  now  the 
Spring  of  Peace  is  here.  The  same  hand,  touching  all 
things  with  green,  puts  little  flowers  and  butterflies  on 
the  nameless  graves,  hangs  fragrant  garlands  on  the 
fircrblackened  walls,  spreads  a  velvet  carpet  of  emerald 
on  the  sides  of  the  shell  holes,  makes  the  birds  warble 
and  the  insects  stir  above  the  tombs,  and  guides  the 
curling  creepers  over  the  black  wood  of  the  crosses,  as 
though  trying  to  change  them  into  thyrsi. 

Alas !     The   earth    knows   nothing   of    our   sorrows. 

The  Prince  comes  out  of  his  abstraction,  and  sees  the 
Colonel  greeting  him  from  a  distance. 

Don  Marcos  is  already  back,  and  with  him  is  Madame 
Toledo,  whose  head  scarcely  reaches  his  shoulder.     On 


526  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

the  way  she  looks  back  several  times,  with  the  hope  of 
finding  herself  followed  by  the  American  soldier. 

On  recognizing  the  Prince  in  the  cafe,  however,  she 
forgets  the  other  man,  and  seems  to  be  entreating  him 
with  her  eyes  to  leave  his  seat  and  to  go  out  with  her 
to  the  terraces. 

The  Colonel  and  his  minx  disappear  in  the  direction 
of  the  terraces,  and  again  Michael  plunges  into  medita- 
tion. He  recalls  his  talk  with  Don  Marcos,  shortly  be- 
fore, as  they  were  descending  from  the  cemetery. 

Toledo  seems  inconsolable.  According  to  him  the 
war  has  not  ended  properly.  He  appears  scandalized 
at  the  absurd  manner  of  its  conclusion !  What  terrible 
times  these  are !  The  fugitive  of  Amerongen  disconcerts 
and  irritates  him. 

"And  imagine  me  doing  him  the  honor  of  comparing 
him  to  a  Lieutenant!  I  considered  him  man  enough  at 
least  to  blow  his  brains  out ! 

"For  thirty  years  he  has  been  frightening  the  world 
with  the  rattle  of  his  saber,  and  with  his  boastful  mus- 
tache; for  thirty  years  he  has  been  calling  himself  war 
lord,  making  whole  races  tremble  at  his  frown,  his 
heroic  attitudinizing,  and  his  melodramatic  speeches ;  for 
thirty  years  he  has  been  preparing  millions  of  men  for 
slaughter,  obliging  peoples  of  the  world  to  live  under 
arms  in  the  midst  of  peace.  And  now,  when  misfortune 
seeks  him  for  her  own,  when  he  considers  his  life  in 
danger,  he  shamefully  flees  to  a  foreign  country  and 
deserts  his  supporters,  like  a  merchant  going  into  a 
fraudulent  bankruptcy." 

"It  is  the  greatest  lie  humanity  has  ever  known,"  the 
Colonel  shouts  indignantly.  "The  greatest  swindle  in 
history." 

It  does  not  prove  anything  to  kill  one's  self;  Don 
Marcos  is  well  aware  of  that.     But  in  this  life  there  are 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  527 

so  many  things  that  do  not  prove  anything  and  which 
nevertheless  are  beautiful  and  logical!  The  despair  of 
those  who  commit  suicide  through  love  does  not  prove 
anything  either,  and  yet  it  has  inspired  the  greatest  works 
of  poetry  and  other  arts.  The  sailor,  who  wrecks  his 
ship,  kills  himself;  every  man  of  honor  who  considers  his 
fault  irreparable  appeals  to  death,  in  order  that  when 
he  falls,  he  may  fall  in  a  dignified  manner. 

"And  that  Emperor,"  Toledo  continued,  "who  planned 
an  organized  slaughter  of  ten  million  men,  wants  to  live 
to  a  ripe  old  age.  It's  the  most  shameless  thing  I  ever 
heard  of! 

"Military  honor,  such  as  it  had  come  to  be  understood 
through  the  various  centuries,  was  unknown  likewise  to 
his  generals.  Those  specialists  in  burning  towns,  those 
technicians  in  executing  peasants,  those  artisans  of  ter- 
ror, on  seeing  disaster  coming,  tranquilly  returned  to 
"their  castles,  like  office  boys  leaving  their  work. 

"Of  all  these  companions  of  the  'war  lord,'  the  only 
one  worthy  of  respect  was  a  civilian,  a  manufacturer,  a 
Jew,  the  munition  maker  Ballin,  of  Hamburg,  who  on 
seeing  the  Empire  ruined,  did  not  want  to  survive  it  and 
shot  himself.  In  the  meantime  the  Marshals  of  the 
strategy  that  failed,  tranquilly  begin  to  devote  them- 
selves to  training  their  dogs,  writing  their  memoirs,  and 
looking  after  their  health. 

"Napoleon,  in  one  of  his  last  battles,  stopped  his  horse 
over  a  lighted  bomb ;  later  he  tried  to  poison  himself  at 
Fontainebleau.  He  courted  death,  and  resigned  himself 
to  living,  like  a  fatalist,  only  on  becoming  convinced  that 
death  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  The  other 
Napoleon,  the  one  of  Sedan,  may  have  taken  refuge  in 
Belgium,  abandoning  his  troops  much  as  the  sad  German, 
Caesar  had  done;;  but  ill  and  fainting,  on  his  horse,  he 
nevertheless  preferred  to  gallop  along  a  high  road  swept 


528  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

by  gun  fire,  hoping  that  a  shell  would  tear  him  to  pieces." 

That  is  the  way  Toledo  understands  military  honor. 
That  is  the  way  it  has  been  accepted  in  all  ages. 

Against  the  Imperial  generals,  recreants,  ready  to  run 
in  the  hour  of  danger,  like  comedians  thinking  only  of 
their  reputations,  his  anger  is  implacable.  Hemmed  in 
by  the  Allies,  with  their  lines  broken,  they  might  have 
fallen  nobly  fighting  until  the  last  moment.  But  they 
preferred  to  beg  for  an  armistice  and  hand  over  their 
weapons,  in  order  that  the  imbeciles  who  had  admired 
them  so  greatly  might  go  on  believing  in  their  divine 
invincibility,  and  be  sure  that  if  they  were  retiring  to 
their  estates  it  was  only  out  of  consideration  for  internal 
politics. 

"Sorry  comedians,  like  their  master,  up  to  the  very 
last  moment!"  And  Don  Marcos,  thinking  of  the  fear 
these  men  have  made  the  whole  world  feel  for  thirty 
years,  cries  out  in  anger : 

"Swindlers !     Swindlers !" 

Once  more  the  Prince  comes  out  of  his  reverie. 
Somebody  has  stopped  in  front  of  him,  and  he  hears  a 
well  known  voice. 

"Your  Highness,  what  a  joy  to  see  you!  The  Colonel 
has  just  told  me  of  your  arrival." 

It  is  Spadoni:  the  same  old  Spadoni,  as  though  but 
a  few  hours  have  gone  by  since  his  last  interview  with 
the  Prince;  as  though  it  is  only  yesterday  that  he  bel- 
lowed with  indignation,  as  he  studied  at  the  piano  What 
the  Palm  Tree  Said  to  the  Century  Plant. 

He  doesn't  want  to  sit  down :  he  is  in  a  hurry ;  he  came 
just  to  shake  hands  with  his  Highness.  He  will  make 
a  point  of  seeing  him  later  when  he  has  more  time,  in 
the  Casino.  He  takes  it  for  granted  that  the  Prince  is 
going  into  the  Casino.  Where  else  could  a  decent  person 
go  in  Monte  Carlo? 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  529 

He  gives  Lubimoff's  uniform  a  rapid  glance,  and  ad- 
mires his  rough  soldierly  appearance. 

"I  have  heard  of  the  great  deeds  of  your  Highness; 
I  always  used  to  ask  the  Colonel  about  you  ...  a 
hero !" 

Lubimoff  has  scarcely  time  to  shake  his  head  at  this 
praise.  Spadoni  starts  to  talk  about  something  more 
interesting.  The  war,  heroes,  and  all  that,  are  nebulous, 
meaningless  things.  He  is  for  reality,  and  begins  to 
talk  about  a  new  personage  whom  he  admires,  a  Portu- 
guese who  plays  big  stakes,  and  whose  name,  because 
of  his  winnings,  during  the  last  few  days,  has  been  filling 
the  gambling  rooms. 

*T  am  studying  him;  besides,  he  is  a  friend  of  mine 
and  I  think  I  have  his  secret.     Imagine,  Prince  .  .  ." 

The  Prince  grows  uneasy,  guessing  that  he  is  going  to 
describe  in  all  its  details  the  combination  of  the  Portu- 
guese, which  he  already  considers  his  own.  But  the 
pianist  looks  towards  the  Casino,  stammers,  and  finally 
interrupts  his  account.  Some  one  is  coming  and  he 
wants  to  share  his  secret  only  with  the  Prince.  He  takes 
his  leave  with  the  promise  that  some  time  he  will  reveal 
the  precious  combination. 

Lubimoff  thinks  of  his  life  during  the  last  few  months, 
his  adventures  as  a  soldier,  of  his  wound,  of  all  that  has 
happened  to  him  and  to  the  entire  world,  while  that 
musician  has  remained  stationary  in  Monte  Carlo,  ad- 
mitting nothing  as  real  save  the  hovering  flight  of  the 
Great  Delusion. 

His  friend  Lewis  holds  out  his  hand  to  the  Prince.  It 
is  he  who,  by  his  approach,  has  stopped  the  pianist's  flow 
of  eloquence.  Gamblers,  out  of  professional  rivalry, 
avoid  telling  one  another  their  secrets.  Time,  which 
seems  to  have  forgotten  Spadoni,  leaving  him  the  same 
as  when   Michael  last   saw   him  in   his   "Villa  of   the 


530  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Tomb,"  has  laid  its  claws  on  Lewis,  making  him  older, 
as  though  months  for  him  have  been  years. 

He  is  sad  because  of  the  losses  he  has  been  suffering, 
and  because  of  his  memories.  That  niece  of  his  was  all 
the  family  he  had !  Lubimoff  knows  through  the  Colo- 
nel that  he  has  not  inherited  anything  from  her.  The 
nurse  spent  her  entire  fortune  on  ambulances  and  hos- 
pitals. Her  title  is  the  one  thing  that  has  gone  to  Lewis. 
His  prophecy  has  come  true:  he  is  now  the  third  Lord 
Lewis,  surnamed  "the  Worthless,"  the  name  he  gave 
himself. 

He  gazes  on  the  Prince  for  a  long  time,  notices  the 
rigid  arm  and  then  shakes  his  left  hand  effusively. 

"You're  a  man,  Lubimoff.  You  know  how  to  do 
things." 

And  in  these  words  there  is  a  reproach  for  himself. 
Unable  to  tear  himself  away  from  Monte  Carlo,  he  will 
live  here  and  die  here,  doing  the  same  things  over  and 
over. 

Nevertheless,  this  is  a  great  day  for  him.  In  the 
morning  he  received  a  visit  from  a  friend  who  is  coming 
to  live  with  him,  he  does  not  know  for  how  long,  per- 
haps for  two  days,  perhaps  for  two  years ;  a  great  friend 
from  whom  he  had  had  no  news  and  whom  he  had  often 
imagined  dead;  the  Count,  the  famous  Count. 

He  has  come  as  far  as  the  cafe  with  Lewis,  who  re- 
fuses to  be  separated  from  him;  he  has  shaken  hands 
with  the  Prince  as  though  he  had  seen  him  the  day  be- 
fore, without  noticing  his  uniform  or  his  mutilation. 
He  sits  silently  in  a  chair,  running  his  hand  through  his 
white,  curly  hair,  fixing  his  round  eyes,  with  a  nocturnal 
fire,  on  the  people  who  are  walking  about  the  "Camem- 
bert." 

Lewis  believes  he  ought  to  feel  happy.    What  a  day 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  531 

of  surprise  it  has  been !  First  the  Count,  and  then  the 
Colonel  telling  him  of  Lubimoff's  arrival. 

He  avoids  talking  about  his  niece:  he  sinks  his  sad- 
ness in  the  sadness  of  all  the  rest.  .  .  .  Peace  has  sur- 
prised him:  who  could  have  imagined  it  would  come  so 
soon,  following  immediately  on  the  most  anxious  phase 
of  the  war? 

The  Count  comes  to  life  at  this  query. 

"Every  one,"  says  he.  "The  great  soothsayers,  the 
g^eat  ones,  announced  at  the  very  beginning,  that  the 
war  would  end  in  the  Fall  of  1918.  It  was  well  known 
to  everybody.  I  have  always  said  so.  You  have  heard 
me  say  so  many  times  yourself,  Lewis." 

Lewis  makes  a  gesture  of  surprise.  But  he  cannot 
doubt  the  science  of  his  learned  friend,  and  prefers 
to  admit  that  it  is  he  who  has  forgotten.  He  has  such 
a  bad  memory!  Perhaps,  even,  he  may  have  misunder- 
stood. These  guardians  of  a  knowledge  of  the  future 
never  express  their  truths  clearly:  they  refuse  to  talk 
like  ordinary  mortals. 

The  conversation  begins  to  lag.  The  Englishman  is 
thinking  of  the  Casino.  He  was  just  going  in  when 
Don  Marcos  gave  him  the  news  of  the  Prince's  arrival. 
He  keeps  the  Count  by  his  side.  The  Count  has  just 
returned  from  a  mysterious  trip  and  has  the  devil's 
rosary  safe  in  a  certain  pocket  of  his  trousers,  constantly 
feeling  in  it  with  his  right  hand. 

"Later  on  we  shall  see  each  other  at  the  Casino.  I 
suppose  you'll  come  in  for  a  moment.  We'll  see  if  luck 
treats  me  well  to-day  after  such  pleasant  meetings." 

And  he  goes  off  with  the  Count  in  the  direction  of  the 
Palace  where  he  is  destined,  as  though  in  prison,  to 
spend  the  rest  of  his  life. 

Lubimoff  notices  two  Italian  soldiers  who  are  looking 


532  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

at  him  from  the  sidewalk  around  the  "Camembert." 
They  are  a  couple  of  hersaglieri,  dressed  in  gray,  with 
little  round  hats  decked  out  in  cock's  plumes.  Noticing 
that  the  Prince  is  looking  at  them  they  become  embar- 
rassed, turn  their  backs  as  though  ashamed,  and  walk 
away,  but  not  without  smiling  first  and  raising  their 
hands  to  their  much  beplumed  hats. 

The  Prince  recalls  what  Don  Marcos  told  him.  Oh, 
yes !  They  are  Estola  and  Pistola,  changed  into  sol- 
diers! They  have  come  on  leave  to  see  their  families. 
They  are  going  up  to  the  Colonel's  house  in  the  evening 
to  pay  their  respects  to  their  former  "Lord."  They  seem 
taller,  and  more  vigorous.  A  few  months  of  war  have 
been  sufficient  to  transport  them  from  adolescence  into 
maturity.     In  every  man  there  is  a  soldier ! 

Just  as  he  is  getting  up  to  take  a  walk  around  the 
terraces,  he  sees  hurrying  toward  the  cafe  a  gentleman 
who  is  violently  waving  to  him,  and  then  has  to  stop  to 
fasten  his  glasses  more  securely  on  his  nose. 

It  takes  some  time  for  the  Prince  to  recognize  him. 
He  guesses  who  it  is  more  by  the  tone  of  his  voice  than 
by  his  features.  Dear  old  Novoa!  The  months  that 
have  gone  by  have  left  a  deeper  imprint  on  him  than  on 
the  rest.  He  is  no  longer  the  young  man  preoccupied 
with  worldly  pomp,  who  used  to  consult  the  Colonel 
about  the  merits  of  various  tailors  and  hatters.  He  has 
returned  to  the  slavery  of  baggy-kneed  trousers  and 
ready-made  neckties.  His  beard  is  full  grown  and 
bushy.  He  is  still  as  young  as  ever  in  his  voice,  his 
eyes,  and  his  lively  and  clumsy  gestures;  but  he  is 
dressed,  not  to  say  disguised,  as  an  old  man. 

The  Professor  is  more  effusive  than  the  rest  on  seeing 
the  Prince.  He  keeps  blessing  the  happy  chance,  which 
brought  Lubimoff  to  him,  through  his  meeting  with  Don 
Marcos  shortly  before. 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  533 

"If  you  had  waited  two  days  longer,  Prince,  I  wouldn't 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  I  am  going  back 
to  my  country  day  after  to-morrow.  I  have  had  enough 
now  of  Monte  Carlo.  When  I  think  of  what  I've  lost 
here!  .  .  .  Money,  dreams,  everything." 

Michael  shows  discretion.  He  suspects  his  friend  has 
had  some  unexpected  disillusionment,  some  deception, 
such  as  one  must  forget  not  to  be  continually  tormented 
by  it.  He  remembers  Valeria,  and  sees  nothing  in  the 
Professor's  appearance  to  indicate  the  slightest  trace 
of  contact  with  that  lady.  He  is  a  ruin,  a  dry  dead 
tree;  the  bird  that  formerly  sang  in  the  branches  must 
have  flown  away  long  since. 

Novoa  is  equally  discreet.  He  looks  at  the  other 
man's  uniform,  and  the  sleeve  with  the  artificial  arm; 
but  he  speaks  in  a  general  way,  with  vague  regrets,  only 
of  what  has  taken  place  during  the  last  few  months. 

"What  extraordinary  things  have  taken  place!  How 
many  friends  of  ours  have  died!  Life  has  finally  be- 
come one  of  those  dramas  in  which  one  dies  at  the  end  of 
the  last  act." 

The  Prince  guesses  that  Novoa  is  thinking  of  Alicia  and 
in  order  not  to  give  him  pain,  is  refraining  from  men- 
tioning her.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  is  indeed  thinking 
of  the  Duchess,  but  she  is  merely  a  point  of  departure 
before  he  comes  to  the  other  woman  with  whom  his 
memory  is  constantly  occupied. 

At  last  he  speaks,  giving  full  rein  to  his  melancholy. 
He  can  tell  the  Prince  everything  because  he  is  the  only 
man  who  knows  his  secret.  (He  has  told  the  Colonel 
and  even  Spadoni  the  same  thing,  on  lamenting  his  mis- 
fortune.) And  he  breaks  into  despairing  recriminations 
against  Valeria. 

She  has  become  a  different  woman.  She  is  no  longer 
interested  in  "lands  of  love,"  where  women  marry  with- 


534  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

out  dowries.  Since  the  Duchess's  death  she  has  become 
a  candidate  for  marriage.  Her  hand  will  bring  with  it 
more  than  three  hundred  thousand  francs.  The  Pro- 
fessor has  found  himself  jilted  and  forgotten.  How  he 
had  grovelled  before  her  when  the  truth  was  known; 
what  shameful  efforts  he  had  made  to  remedy  what  he 
had  considered  at  the  outset  a  woman's  passing  whim! 
He  hates  to  remember  moments  such  as  those. 

"It  is  all  ended.  Prince.  At  present  she  is  crazy  about 
an  American  officer  and  will  finally  marry  him.  No  one 
counts  here  except  the  Americans.  Everything  'is  for 
them:  even  love.  The  humblest  little  milliner  considers 
herself  disgraced  if  she  hasn't  a  soldier  from  the  United 
States  to  promenade  with  in  the  evening.  Every  after- 
noon she  and  the  other  man  dance  in  the  hotels  of  La 
Condamine,  or  right  here  in  the  Cafe  de  Paris." 

He  stops,  as  though  some  one  had  touched  him  on  the 
shoulder.  He  does  not  see  any  one  behind  him,  but 
his  eyes,  wandering  over  the  groups  sitting  at  the  tables 
meet  something  which  makes  his  voice  tremble. 

"It  is  she.  Prince." 

Michael  would  not  have  recognized  her.  He  sees  two 
ladies,  escorted  by  two  American  officers,  entering  the 
Cafe.  One  of  them  is  Valeria,  dressed  with  gay  and 
showy  elegance,  as  though  anxious  to  compensate  in  a 
moment  for  years  of  frugality  and  privation. 

Against  the  soft  twilight  the  cafe  windows  begin  to 
gleam  with  a  reddish  glow.  One  after  another,  the  large 
lamps  within  are  lighted.  To  the  Prince's  ears  come 
the  voluptuous  wailings  of  violins. 

"Life  has  changed  very  greatly  since  you  went  away, 
Prince.  Every  one  feels  a  desperate  hunger  for  amuse- 
ment. The  first  thing  that  peace  brought  back  to  life 
was  the  tango." 

Then  Novoa  begins  to  think  about  himself : 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  535 

"What  can  I  do  here  ?  I  am  poor.  Everything  I  pos- 
sessed in  my  country  I  have  dropped  here  in  the  Casino. 
I  have  studied  the  mysteries  of  the  ocean  enough.  How 
dearly  it  has  cost  me !  I  have  had  my  Httle  dream,  and 
now  I  am  going  to  resume  my  ill-paid  work  back  there 
as  a  day  laborer  in  science." 

He  thinks  once  more  of  her. 

"Did  you  notice  ?  .  .  .  The  poor  Duchess,  who  made 
her  what  she  is  now,  is  lying  up  there  in  her  grave,  and 
here  she  is  dancing,  only  a  few  months  after  her  death." 

He  feels  the  harsh  indignation,  the  sense  of  outraged 
morality,  that  all  who  have  been  scorned  experience. 

His  anger  grows  so  strong  that  he  gets  up  from  his 
chair.  He  cannot  remain  there.  The  woman  has  seen 
him,  and  might  think  that  he  is  pursuing  her,  that  he  is 
waiting  for  her  to  come  out,  in  order  to  entreat  her. 
Never;  he  has  had  enough  of  certain  humiliations  which 
he  does  not  care  to  remember. 

He  hurriedly  says  good-by.  They  will  see  each  other 
again  soon.  Don  Marcos  has  invited  him  to  dinner 
at  the  little  house  in  Beausoleil.  The  Colonel  was  sure 
that  his  visit  would  please  the  Prince. 

He  grasps  Lubimoff's  hand  and  does  not  seem  to 
notice  it  is  the  wooden  one.  His  eyes  and  his  thoughts 
are  on  the  cafe  windows,  ablaze  in  mid  afternoon. 
Through  them  the  cadenced  murmur  of  the  violins  is 
passing.     As  he  walks  away  he  still  repeats  his  protest. 

"The  poor  Duchess  up  there  forgotten.  .  .  .  And  the 
other  woman.  What  a  scandal!  I  am  glad  I'm  going 
away  soon,  and  will  never  see  her  again." 

On  remaining  alone,  the  Prince  leaves  his  table.  Don 
Marcos  is  doubtless  telling  the  news  of  his  arrival  to 
every  one  he  meets,  and  Michael  is  afraid  that  other  less 
interesting  persons  will  appear. 


536  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

As  he  walks  along  he  notices  something  which  he  had 
not  seen  before  when  he  was  with  the  Colonel.  The 
United  States  flag  is  floating  above  all  the  buildings.  In 
the  city  streets  there  are  as  many  signs  in  English  as 
in  French.  There  are  American  soldiers  everywhere. 
Lubimoif's  uniform  and  that  of  the  other  French  fighters 
are  lost  in  the  great  flood  of  men  dressed  in  mustard 
color.  The  light  automobiles  of  the  American  army  pass 
incessantly.  They  are  everywhere.  One  meets  them  in 
the  streets,  on  the  roads  along  the  coast  and  climbing  the 
slopes  of  the  Alps  like  buzzing,  snorting  ants.  Every- 
thing seems  animated  by  a  robust,  gay,  self-confident 
life,  the  life  of  a  twenty-year-old  boy.  The  concert  on 
the  terraces  is  being  given  by  an  American  band.  The 
people  walking  in  the  streets  absent-mindedly  whistle 
dance  tunes  from  across  the  ocean  and  marching  songs 
of  the  soldiers  from  the  States.  People  stop  in  the 
squares  to  admire  the  skill  of  the  Americans  in  shirt 
sleeves  throwing  a  ball  and  sending  it  back  again  after 
catching  it  in  a  kind  of  fencing  glove. 

Monaco  seems  to  have  been  conquered  by  the  troops 
of  the  Great  Republic;  a  good-natured  and  kindly  con- 
quest, which  makes  the  conquered  smile.  It  is  the  same 
in  Nice  and  everywhere  on  the  Riviera.  The  Prince 
recalls  his  brief  stay  in  Paris  a  few  days  before.  There 
he  saw  Americans  just  as  here.  How  many  are  they? 
What  superhuman  power  has  been  able  to  create  in  a 
few  months  this  army  which  though  of  recent  birth, 
seems  to  fill  all  space? 

A  people  has  just  risen  above  all  the  peoples  of  the 
earth.  Never  in  history  has  such  a  rise  been  known. 
It  dominates  through  friendliness,  through  its  generous 
acts,  and  by  the  benificent  strength  of  its  activities ;  not 
through  terror,  the  base  of  all  greatness  in  the  past. 

LubimoflF  recalls  his  doubts  of  the  year  before.    No 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  537 

one  would  have  believed  that  a  people  without  armies 
could  improvise  a  military  force  equal  to  those  of  old 
Europe.  And  in  only  a  few  months  the  United  States 
had  organized  and  transported  two  million  men  to  de- 
cide the  outcome  of  the  struggle,  and  the  world's  fate. 

Arriving  at  the  last  moment,  they  had  liberally  given 
their  share  of  dead.  In  five  months  of  campaign  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty  thousand  Americans  had  perished,  a 
huge  proportion  compared  to  the  losses  of  the  other  na- 
tions during  five  years  of  fighting. 

Michael,  in  his  silent  enthusiasm,  enumerates  what  has 
just  been  done  for  humanity  by  this  great  people,  which 
shortly  before  was  considered  utilitarian  and  selfish,  and 
which  now  reveals  itself  as  the  most  romantic  and 
generous. 

Two  great  wars  are  the  most  striking  incidents  in  its  / 

history:  one  within,  for  the  suppression  of  slavery;  the        / 
other,  without,  to  prevent  the  glorification  of  war,  the 
brutal  hegemony  of  one  people  over  all,  the  exaltation 
of  a  mystic  imperialism. 

For  the  first  time  in  history,  a  democracy  has  inter- 
vened in  the  fate  of  a  world  through  the  centuries  sub- 
jected to  the  rule  of  kings.  The  modern  republics  had 
until  now  lived  an  inner  and  retiring  life.  The  wars  of 
the  French  Revolution  were  defensive.  The  Republic 
of  the  Convention  fought  to  exist,  since  all  the  monarchs 
wanted  to  suppress  it.  The  American  Republic  had  vol- 
untarily entered  the  struggle,  without  being  threatened 
by  any  immediate  danger,  because  of  a  mandate  of  its 
conscience,  indignant  at  German  crimes,  because  of  the 
responsibility  developing  upon  its  greatness,  its  demo- 
cratic strength. 

Before  arming,  before  intervening  in  the  European 
crash  while  living  in  patient  neutrality,  battles  were  being 
won    for    it.    This    war    was    different    from    others. 


538  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

Against  Germany,  ready  through  long  years  of  prepara- 
tion for  the  struggle,  and  with  all  its  industrial  and  com- 
mercial strength  mobilized  for  war  purposes,  the  Allies 
fought  during  the  first  few  months,  as  a  brave  but  back- 
ward people  fights  against  a  modern  nation.  They 
showed  much  bravery,  and  great  heroism,  sometimes  in 
vain,  against  the  blind  mechanical  force  of  industrial  in- 
vention applied  to  destruction. 

If  this  inequality  kept  diminishing,  it  was  thanks  in 
large  part  to  the  Republic  beyond  the  sea.  Its  money 
barons  made  enormous  loans  to  the  Allies ;  its  captains 
of  industry  facilitated  the  manufacture  of  the  gigantic 
"equipment  demanded  by  the  demon-like  progress  of 
military  science ;  its  ships  defying  the  submarine  menace, 
brought  bread  which  had  grown  scarce  in  Europe 
through  the  war. 

And  when,  its  patience  finally  exhausted,  it  directly 
intervened,  what  generosity  it  showed ! 

The  American  combatants  fought  for  simple  and  ro- 
bust ideals :  the  rights  of  the  weak  to  live,  the  dignity 
and  freedom  of  mankind,  the  elimination  of  wars,  under- 
standing between  peoples,  sovereign  right  ruling  the  life 
of  nations;  things  which  shortly  before  had  made  the 
Old  World  skeptics  smile. 

All  the  countries  of  Europe  had  frontiers  to  reestab- 
lish, strips  of  land  to  claim.  The  United  States  of 
America  was  not  asking  for  anything,  it  did  not  want 
anything. 

Each  one  of  the  contestants,  on  thinking  of  victory, 
calculated  the  indemnities  it  should  collect  to  compen- 
sate for  its  endeavors  and  sacrifices.  The  American  Re- 
public spent  more  than  all  the  other  nations.  The  main- 
tenance of  each  of  its  soldiers  cost  it  as  much  as  seven 
soldiers  from  the  other  countries,  and  nevertheless,  it 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  539 

entered  the  war  and  withdrew  from  the  war  without 
demanding  any  particular  reimbursement, 

Lubimoff  admired  its  enormous  strength  in  victory: 
Never  had  any  Empire  in  the  past  reached  such  great- 
ness ;  not  even  ^ome. 

It  was  the  only  country,  at  once  both  industrial  and 
agricultural,  on  earth.  It  formed  a  world  apart  within 
the  world.  It  might,  without  suffering,  isolate  itself 
from  the  rest  of  the  Globe;  but  the  world  would  feel  a 
sensation  of  emptiness  if  the  Great  Republic  were  to 
turn  its  back  upon  the  other  nations. 

Its  armed  citizens  were  retiring  without  boasting  and 
without  commotion,  just  as  they  had  come,  and  without 
asking  anything  for  their  great  endeavor.  They  would 
disappear  like  the  fairies  and  enchanters  in  ancient 
legends  who,  after  doing  good,  need  to  return  to  their 
mysterious  domains. 

Years  would  pass:  history  would  speak  of  this  en- 
deavor, unique  in  its  intensity  and  its  generous  char- 
acter, and  on  the  Riviera  and  in  other  places  there  would 
remain  of  this  great  world  a  memory  disfigured  by  time. 
The  boys  of  to-day,  grown  old,  would  remember  how 
they  learned  to  play  baseball  from  the  soldiers  who  had 
come  from  a  land  of  marvels  beyond  the  sea,  the  girls, 
becoming  grandmothers,  would  yearningly  recall  the 
American  lovers  they  once  had. 

The  Prince  calculates  again  the  greatness  of  this  peo- 
ple, the  only  one  capable  of  still  working  the  miracles, 
that  religions  sometimes  work  in  the  early  period  of 
their  exaltation. 

The  Great  Republic  is  the  world's  creditor.  All  the 
victorious  nations  owe  it  fabulous  sums;  England  is  its 
debtor  by  thousands  of  millions,  and  France  the  same. 
The  smaller  countries,  Belgium,  Serbia,  and  the  rest, 


540  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

have  been  able  to  live,  thanks  to  its  enormous  loans.  It 
is  not  all  known  as  yet,  years  must  pass  before  the  full 
extent  of  these  generosities  is  brought  to  light.  This 
country,  which  likes  advertisement  and  loud  propaganda 
in  its  commercial  affairs,  is  modest  and  concise  in  speak- 
ing of  its  disinterested  acts. 

"To  go  on  freely  living  after  the  cataclysm,  humanity 
is  going  to  need  America's  support,  or  America's  benevo- 
lence," thinks  the  Prince.  "The  political  center  of  the 
world  has  shifted.  It  is  no  longer  in  Paris,  nor  is  it  in 
London.  It  remained  for  a  while,  trembling  unsteadily 
on  its  base,  in  Berlin;  but  now  it  has  leaped  across  the 
ocean." 

The  man,  as  yet  unknown,  who  in  the  future  is  to  take 
his  place  in  the  White  House  for  four  years,  professor, 
lawyer,  merchant,  or  farmer,  as  he  may  be,  will  sway  the 
destiny  of  the  world  more  than  all  the  rulers  who  fill 
history  with  the  din  of  warlike  glory.  His  power  will 
be  based  on  something  more  permanent  and  solid  than 
the  strength  of  armies.  It  will  have  behind  it  industry 
and  wealth,  which  create  armies;  democratic  power, 
which  the  power  of  public  opinion  creates. 

The  irresistible  strength  of  this  power  is  clearly  seen 
by  the  Prince. 

Germany,  in  spite  of  her  continual  military  triumphs 
in  the  first  few  years  of  the  war,  has  finally  fallen  in 
defeat.  Public  opinion  was  against  her.  The  demo- 
cratic spirit  of  the  entire  world  rose  against  the  spirit 
of  Empire. 

This  triumph  of  democracy  is  beginning  to  be  manifest 
everywhere. 

"There  is  no  longer  a  single  emperor  left  in  Europe," 
Michael  goes  on  thinking.  "The  vanquished  empires 
want  to  be  republics.  All  the  kings  are  forgetting  their 
ancestors  with  their  divine  rights,  and  are  trying  to  have 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  541 

their  crowns  forgiven  them,  that  they  may  imitate  the 
simple  life  of  a  president." 

This  unexpected  attitude  of  the  world  gives  it  a  new 
love  of  life. 

He  has  realized,  for  the  last  few  months — since  he 
gave  up  Villa  Sirena — that  Prince  Michael  Fedor 
Lubimoft*  has  become  an  unfashionable  personage.  Per- 
haps, with  the  lapse  of  years,  others  will  be  as  he  was. 
History  repeats  itself.  Times  of  peace  and  plenty  in- 
evitably produce  men  such  as  he  had  been.  But  at  pres- 
ent humanity  has  been  restored  by  grief  and  sacrifice, 
humanity  is  anxious  to  live,  and  longs  for  something- 
new,  without  knowing  exactly  what,  and  is  working  to 
secure  it. 

Michael  looks  on  himself  with  pity.  What  is  he  going 
to  do?  What  can  men  like  himself  do  for  their  fellow 
men? 

He  recalls  the  luncheon  in  the  little  house  of  Don 
Marcos.  He  is  still  offended  by  the  attentions  the 
Colonel  shows  him  at  table,  cutting  his  meat,  looking 
after  him  like  a  child,  trying  to  make  up  for  the  absence 
of  his  arm.     It  is  something  disgraceful! 

Farewell  to  Prince  Lubimoff!  .  .  .  Even  if  he  still 
wanted  to  continue  his  selfish  existence,  entirely  given 
up  to  pleasure,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him.  He  is 
a  cripple;  he  considers  himself  quite  old.  No  one  but 
Mado,  who  doesn't  really  know  what  she  wants,  would 
ever  notice  him. 

Besides,  he  feels  poor.  For  the  first  time  he  recalls 
with  a  certain  satisfaction  the  heritage  left  him  by 
Alicia.  It  was  not  worth  anything  at  that  moment,  but 
who  knows  but  what  some  day  .  .  .  !  He  dreams  that 
perhaps  those  Mexican  mines  may  replace  his  lost  for- 
tune in  Russia;  and  then  .  .  .  !  He  feels  a  strong  de- 
sire to  regain  his  wealth  in  order  to  do  good ;  a  longing^ 


542  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

which  is  something  like  remorse-  He  knows  the  ineffi- 
ciency of  individual  effort  in  remedying  human  misery: 
a  mere  drop  lost  in  the  ocean,  a  grain  of  sand  on  the 
beach.  But  what  difference  does  that  make?  He  is 
satisfied  in  giving  happiness  to  some  fifty  unfortunate 
beings,  among  the  hundreds  of  millions  who  people  the 
earth. 

Then  he  thinks  of  his  present  situation.  That  very 
morning  he  determined  on  his  mode  of  life.  He  will 
flee  from  the  poor  Colonel,  because  of  Mado.  Others 
may  take  it  upon  themselves  to  bring  misfortune  to 
Don  Marcos,  but  not  he !  He  will  take  up  his  residence 
in  Nice,  in  a  Russian  pension  run  by  an  impoverished 
noblewoman.  In  the  evenings  they  will  talk  of  the  days 
when  she  was  rich,  beautiful,  and  desired;  of  the  dances 
at  the  Petersburg  Court,  in  which  they  danced  together 
so  often.  Lubimoff  even  has  a  suspicion  that  one  of  his 
duels  was  over  this  boarding-house  keeper. 

The  remnants  of  his  fortune  will  bring  him  a  suffi- 
cient income  to  live  in  modest  comfort.  He  will  swell 
the  number  of  wrecks  retiring  to  the  Riviera,  to  recall, 
under  the  palm  trees,  their  forgotten  triumphs.  His  old 
valet  will  accompany  him  in  his  dethronement. 

He  already  has  an  occupation  to  fill  his  hours.  He 
wants  to  be  a  contemplator  of  life.  He  is  glad  to  have 
been  bom  in  the  most  interesting  of  periods. 

Something  is  going  to  happen;  something  new  in 
history. 

The  smoke  has  not  yet  cleared  away  from  the  battle- 
fields. It  is  a  mist  in  which  people  lose  their  way  and 
which  does  not  allow  them  to  see  the  complete  outline 
of  things.  The  very  actors  in  the  recent  drama  are 
blind.  Years  will  pass,  before  the  mist  rises  and  van- 
ishes, leaving  the  new  world  visible. 

Will  it  be  the  same  stage  setting  as  of  yore,  merely 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  543 

with  a  few  lines  changed?  Will  all  these  bloody  efforts 
to  suppress  violence,  selfishness,  and  pre-historic  ferocity 
as  the  chief  bases  of  society,  turn  out  to  have  been  in 
vain? 

The  Prince  thinks  bitterly  of  the  possible  disillusion- 
ment. How  terrible  to  see  primitive  bestiality  rise  again 
unharmed  after  a  cataclysm  which  has  been  accepted  as 
a  regeneration !  How  terrible  to  contemplate  the  failure 
of  so  many  generous  spirits,  of  so  many  noble  minds, 
aspiring  toward  the  triumph  of  good,  anxious  for  peace 
among  men,  and  the  sweet  association  of  people,  work- 
ing against  war  as  medical  societies  labor  to  exterminate 
diseases ! 

Faith  in  the  future  suddenly  animates  him.  The 
world  cannot  always  be  the  same;  great  convulsions, 
when  they  have  passed,  never  leave  the  soil  the  same 
as  they  found  it.  Will  children  always  be  annihilating 
each  other  just  because  their  fathers  and  grandfathers 
did  so?  Must  they  look  on  each  other  with  hostility 
because  they  were  born  on  different  sides  of  a  mountain,, 
a  river,  or  a  wood,  which  politics  calls  a  frontier? 

We  all  have  two  native  lands!  The  place  where  we 
were  born,  and  the  State  to  which  we  belong.  Why  not 
generously  broaden  this  conception  to  include  a  third 
country?  Will  not  a  blessed  time  come  in  which  men 
will  talk  as  fellow  being  to  fellow  being,  without  think- 
ing whether  or  not  History  commands  them  to  hate  and 
kill  each  other  ?  With  deep  love  for  one's  land  of  birth, 
cannot  they  be  at  the  same  time  citizens  of  the  world? 

The  Prince  is  leaning  on  the  balustrade,  above  the 
terraces  and  the  harbor.  His  pensive  walk  has  brought 
him  thither,  without  his  realizing  it. 

He  turns  his  back  on  the  sea  and  on  the  crowd  which, 
after  the  concert,  is  beginning  to  thin  out  there  below. 
The  American  musicians  are  passing  close  to  him,  fol- 


544  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

lowed  by  a  swarm  of  small  boys  accompanying  their 
retirement. 

He  looks  at  a  gap  on  the  horizon,  between  the  Alps 
and  the  promontory  of  Monaco,  where  the  sun  has  just 
gone  down.  Above  the  reddish  expanse  a  star  is  shining 
with  the  brilHancy  and  luminous  facets  of  a  precious 
stone. 

Lubimoff  is  thinking  of  the  ancient  fathers  of  poetry 
who  sang  about  it  three  thousand  years  ago.  Homer 
called  it  Kalistos.  Sometimes  the  morning  star  and  at 
other  times  the  evening  star,  Lucifer,  Vesperus,  or  the 
^'Shepherds*  Star,"  it  finally  received  the  name  of  Venus, 
because  of  its  shining  whiteness,  like  that  of  a  diamond 
on  a  woman's  breast. 

The  Prince  feels  the  sweet  caress  in  his  eyes  as  he 
gazes  on  the  soft  glow  ^of  the  planet.  Its  name  sym- 
bolizes beauty  and  love.  He  imagines  the  people  who 
inhabit  that  celestial  point  of  light  lost  in  space.  They 
must  be  of  a  purer  essence  than  ours,  entirely  free  from 
a  past  of  primitive  animality — ethereal  beings,  like  the 
angels  of  all  religions. 

Then  he  smiles  bitterly. 

There  is  another  star  shining  in  the  sky,  more  beauti- 
ful and  larger  than  that  one.  It  is  blue  instead  of  white, 
a  soft  blue :  the  color  of  poetry  and  dreams.  It  sparkles, 
in  the  dark  depths  of  space,  with  the  mysterious  glow  of 
the  enormous  bluish  diamonds  which  Oriental  monarchs 
place  in  their  tiaras.  Those  who  contemplate  it  feel  in 
their  eyes  the  velvety  dew  of  divine  mystery.  Perhaps 
the  poets  of  other  worlds  sing  of  it  as  a  chosen  refuge 
and  a  place  of  eternal  beauty,  where  only  the  souls  of  the 
pure  and  the  elect  may  go  to  rest.  Perhaps  it  has  given 
rise  to  religions  and  is  the  object  of  cults,  having  its 
altars,  as  the  sun  had  in  former  times. 

And  this  blue  diamond  of  space,  this  world  of  soft 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  545 

light,  which  the  populations  of  other  planets  contem- 
plate as  a  poetic  star,  and  as  one  in  which  all  creatures 
lead  a  purely  spiritual  life,  is  the  Earth,  our  poor  globe, 
where  twelve  millions  of  men  have  just  died  on  the 
battlefield,  where  as  many  more  millions  died  of  the 
emotion  and  plagues,  which  are  the  consequence  of  war; 
and  where  six  hundred  thousand  millions  of  francs  have 
been  consumed  in  smoke,  fire,  and  bursting  steel. 

Lubimoff  remembers  his  impressions,  a  few  hours  be- 
fore, standing  beside  a  tomb  which  was  beginning  to 
be  changed  at  the  first  halting  words  of  Spring.  The 
Infinite  does  not  know  us,  nor  does  the  very  earth  which 
maintains  us  know  us  either. 

We  are  alone  in  the  infinite,  without  other  support 
than  that  of  our  own  lives,  our  own  illusions,  and  our 
own  hopes.     Man  can  rely  only  on  man. 

And  he  repeats  what  he  had  said  of  the  earth  that 
morning. 

The  sky  knows  nothing  of  our  sorrows. 

He  slowly  turns  toward  the  square. 

From  all  the  cafes,  restaurants,  and  hotels,  comes  the 
musical  rise  and  fall  of  the  cadenced  violins.  Behind 
the  great  windows,  reddened  by  an  inner  light,  he  see 
couples  passing  intertwined,  following  the  rhythm  of  the 
music.    They  are  dancing,  dancing,  dancing. 

Youth  does  nothing  else.  Dancing  is  a  sort  of  sacred 
rite,  prohibited  during  the  war;  and  people  are  all  de- 
voting themselves  in  dancing  now,  with  the  fervor  of 
zealots  finally  celebrating  the  triumphs  of  their  perse- 
cuted religion. 

The  Prince  recalls  his  recent  passage  through  Paris. 
He  had  never  seen  the  women  better  dressed,  with  so 
manifest  a  hunger  for  pleasure  and  luxury.  The  tango 
of  the  violins  on  the   Boulevard   is   answered  like  an 


546  THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN 

echo  by  the  tango  of  the  violins  all  along  the  Riviera, 
and  at  the  summer  resorts  which  are  beginning  to  open. 
Woman's  dearest  wish,  at  the  moment,  is  to  dance  the 
latest  dance  with  a  fighter  from  the  United  States ! 

The  nightmare  of  war  has  vanished;  everything  has 
been  forgotten.  For  many  people  nothing  remains  to 
recall  the  conflict  save  the  uniforms,  more  numerous  than 
formerly  in  the  thes  daiisants. 

Michael  confines  his  meditation  to  this  coast,  which 
was  always  the  domain  of  the  blessed !  For  four  long 
years  war  has  turned  Monaco  upside  down  and  filled  it 
with  darkness. 

His  imagination  runs  up  and  down  the  gulfs  and  prom- 
ontories. There  is  a  cemetery  on  each.  In  Mentone  thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  negroes  lie  under  the  earth. 
The  combatants  from  Africa,  whose  fathers  knew  only 
the  lance  and  the  breech-clout,  have  chanced  to  perish 
like  gladiators  on  this  shore  of  European  millionaires. 
In  Cap-Martin  the  EngHsh  have  left  their  dead;  in 
Monaco,  there  are  some  of  every  nationality;  in  Cap- 
Ferrat,  the  Belgians  sleep,  under  wreaths  already  old ;  in 
Nice,  are  the  bodies  of  the  Americans ;  and  everywhere, 
from  Esterel  to  the  Italian  frontier,  there  are  French- 
men, Frenchmen,  Frenchmen. 

The  dead  are  innumerable.  Were  they  all  to  rise  to- 
gether, those  who  come  to  prolong  their  Hves  under  the 
palm  tree  and  the  olive  on  the  shores  of  the  Violet  Sea, 
would  flee  aghast. 

But  the  aim  of  life  is  to  live.  Life  is  an  endless 
Springtime,  and  covers  everything  it  touches  with  the 
eager  moss  of  pleasure,  with  the  swiftly  creeping  ivy  of 
dreams. 

The  cemeteries,  strikingly  white,  seem  to  take  on  a 
duller  tone,  and  are  lost  in  the  smiling  landscape,  like  an 
unessential  note  in  a  song.     The  softness  of  the  skies 


THE  ENEMIES  OF  WOMEN  547 

and  the  surrounding  country  changes  them  to  gardens. 
A  body  occupies  so  little  space  and  the  earth  is  so  large  I 
.  .  .  The  hotels  which  were  hospitals,  are  regilding  their 
signs,  disinfecting  their  rooms  and  sending  advertise- 
ments to  the  great  newspapers  of  the  world.  Already 
people  may  come  and  dream  between  the  walls  which 
just  now  shook  with  cries  of  pain,  or  the  rattle  of  death 
agonies.  Music  is  beginning  sweetly  to  moan  along  the 
happy  coast,  amid  the  murmur  of  the  waves  and  the 
rustling  of  the  orange  trees,  of  epithalamial  perfume. 
The  old  shepherd  of  the  Alps,  who,  after  sixty  years, 
has  not  yet  recovered  from  his  amazement  at  the  Monte 
Carlo  which  has  arisen  there  below  on  the  once  deserted 
tableland,  will  see  it  grow  with  new  palaces  and  new 
towers,  further  expanding  its  opulence  like  a  city  of 
dreams. 

The  passage  of  death  has  made  love  of  life  more 
keen.  Every  one,  seeing  the  black  banner  of  the  Ad- 
versary vanish  in  the  darkness,  finds  new  zest  in  pleasure. 

Lubimoff  stops  in  the  middle  of  the  square.  It  is 
beginning  to  grow  dark.  With  one  ear  he  hears  the 
musical  swing  of  a  dance  invented  by  the  negroes  of 
North  America  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  whites;  and 
with  the  other  he  hears  other  negro  music,  the  South 
American  tango.  In  the  adjoining  streets  new  orches- 
tras are  playing  wherever  there  is  a  public  place,  cafe, 
hotel,  or  restaurant — with  a  sign  in  English  at  the  door, 
to  attract  the  heroes  of  the  hour :  Dancing. 

He  gazes  at  the  mountain  which  forms  a  background 
for  the  square  and  watches  over  the  graves  on  its  slopes. 
Then  he  looks  on  high.  .  .  . 

The  earth  and  the  sky  know  nothing  of  our  sorrows. 

And  neither  does  life. 

THE   END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 
^r^r\T  T  T?/"--!?    T  TT>T>  AT>V 


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